Pretty Little Choices
by TheQuietAwakening
Summary: Voldemort has won the battle of Hogwarts and Harry Potter is dead. Hermione has been taken as a prisoner and is locked in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Little does she know that she is Voldemort's long lost daughter and he has big plans for her future. Does Hermione have any choice left? - A Dramione Fanfiction - rated M just to be safe
1. In the Dungeon

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling not me (unfortunately)**

 **This Chapter is a little bit darker than the rest of the story but it is necessary to explain some things.**

Hermione's eyelids fluttered open, seeing nothing but darkness. She was laying on a cold, hard floor, in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor. Pain flooded through her body as she tried to move. It had been a week since the horrible events at Hogwarts had taken place.

They were supposed to have won! Everything had been in place, prepared, all the Horcruxes destroyed. But it was not enough. Destroying the pieces of Voldemort's soul and destroying Voldemort himself had been two very different things.

 _Everyone watched in terrified silence as Harry and Voldemort faced each other. Since Harry had already defeated Voldemort before, and as a baby no less, nobody expected that it would be so difficult to do it again. Apparently, Voldemort had been gaining power, more than last time, and Harry's mother's protection no longer held firm. It was breathtakingly close. The powerful beams of light from each crashed into the other, Voldemort's green killing curse against Harry's red expelliarmus. Slowly the green overcame the red, much to the horror of the many onlookers. Suddenly, the connection broke and with a flash of green light, Harry collapsed to the ground, dead. Hermione screamed through tears that streamed down her face. Harry couldn't be dead! He just couldn't! There were many other cries of anguish as the destruction of the only hope they had left was witnessed._

 _The death eaters lunged at the defeated mass of students and teachers yelling threats with newly found inspiration. The chase and the panic began. Hermione tried to find Ron but with no success. Everything was in chaos as people ran for their lives. She had no idea where to go. Friends and peers from school were battling the death eaters each way she had looked, and many were losing the fight. Hermione wanted to help them but she had her own pursuer. A death eater had come upon her, firing spell after spell her way. Hermione ducked and ran through the rubble, rapidly firing defensive spells as well as a few offensive ones when she got the chance. Then there were two on her tail as she sprinted to escape. There was nowhere left to run as another two death eaters appeared in front of her. A binding spell hit her square on and she tumbled to the ground, unable to move. She thought for sure that she would die there. Her body trembled with fear as the death eaters approached her, their masks hiding their identities and making the situation all the more frightening. One cocked its head._

 _"She's a pretty one," he said, his words muffled by the mask. "We could have some fun with her." She was levitated and dragged through the battlefield presumably as a prisoner. She realized then that she probably would have been better off if she had been killed then and there. Where she was going, she knew would be much worse. She heard someone yell "stupefy!" before everything had gone dark._

Her realization had been right. What she was facing was much worse than death.

 _She woke up in darkness. The fear of blindness shook her as she sat in the cold room. Then bright light had streamed into the room making her eyes squint from the new exposure. At least she was not blind. She saw that she was in some sort of dungeon with dark, stone walls and floor with stairs leading up to the door. She heard the clicking of heeled shoes against the stone floor and immediately knew who she was going to see. Bellatrix stood in front of her. With her large, dark hair, black leather outfit and crazed look in her eye, she positively emanated evil. Hermione's wand was gone so she had no way of protecting herself from what she knew would come. Subconsciously she moved backwards until her back hit the wall behind her. Bellatrix seemed to think this was funny, giggling in an insane fashion to herself._

 _The pain was something she became familiar with over the week, as every couple of hours so it seemed, someone would come to pay her a visit and have some fun with her. She was kicked and punched and tortured with the cruciatus curse until she became unconscious, and then it would all begin again. She was fed one meal per day of stale bread and a cup of water. One day, something different happened. She was dragged up the steps and thrown to the feet of Voldemort himself who said that he wanted in on the fun. The cruciatus curse from his wand was more painful than the others if that was even possible. Her throat was already raw from screaming before he cast the curse. She was blind with the pain. It was all she could see, hear, and foresee. He only cast the curse twice before quickly leaving the room, with Hermione still shuddering and aching on the ground. The event with Voldemort had been strange and gave her something more to think about than the next person who would come to visit as she was thrown back into the dungeon._

The week had passed and Hermione knew that something had changed. She was getting fewer visitors each day and more food was given to her. She did not know what this meant but it had all started after that day with Voldemort. She was actually grateful for that occasion. She had been filled with grief over the loss of Harry and in a constant state of uncertainty and worry over her other friends, not to mention the continuous pain she was in. She focused her mind on what had happened. Something had shaken him. Voldemort himself. Everything seemed normal to her except for his reaction to torturing her. Wasn't he supposed to enjoy it as much as the others seemed to? This confused her.

The door opened and light flooded the dungeon again. Hermione let out a whimper as she knew what was coming. But the pain did not begin. Instead, she was being dragged up those steps again. The only other time she had been brought out of the room was the last time she had come face to face with Voldemort.

Maybe, this time, he would kill her. A girl can only hope.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This is my first fanfic so please review and tell me how it is, if there is anything I can do better, etc. I have read a lot of fan fictions before deciding to write my own so I apologize if I have subconsciously taken anything from another story! I didn't mean to!**


	2. One From Long Ago

**Disclaimer: Again, none of the characters are mine!**

Voldemort had been bored. After finally defeating Harry Potter, there was much less to do. Bellatrix had suggested joining in with the fun of torturing some of the prisoners and that there was a mudblood in the dungeon that was everybody's favorite. He had agreed and had the girl brought before him, excitedly anticipating hearing her scream. Voldemort had not predicted what would come next. After casting the first curse and watching the mudblood writhe in agony, he enjoyed no pleasure. What was even more strange was the glow that seemed to surround her. He thought that he must be seeing things. All his boredom must have had some effect on his mind. He cursed her again and he felt something in his gut twinge painfully. Shocked, he immediately left the room.

Now, the snakelike man paced across the study floor, deep in thought. That glow; he had only ever heard of people seeing it through the paternal bond, but of course that was madness. He had never had any children.

Memories of a secret affair flooded to the forefront of his mind. He did not even remember the woman's name. He knew he should have killed her right after that night occurred. It was just over one year before he began hunting down the Potters' child when it happened. One night to clear his mind turned disaster. He had slept with the woman and kicked her out the next morning. Who was he to know that roughly nine months later she would return with a baby in her arms. Voldemort had been so angry that she had done this to him he had killed her. This had left him with another situation that he did not want to deal with. He still had the baby. Apparently, he had a daughter. He should have killed her as well, but curiously he did not. He gave the child to one of his followers, who then sent her to an orphanage. That was the last he had heard of her.

Now Voldemort wondered if indeed this girl could be his long lost daughter. She had been called a mudblood so it could not be, could it? Obviously, she was raised by muggle parents. This infuriated him. His daughter, raised as a muggle, as a mudblood! It was outrageous!

What to do with her now, though? She was a member of the rebellion against him, helping in the attempt to bring him to destruction!

For once, Voldemort was at a loss for what to do. If she was his daughter, she did not deserve what was happening to her due to her blood status; her blood was noble. But if not, he would make a fool of himself. He gave himself two days to decide. In the meantime, he ordered for her to be given slightly more food and to be tortured less, though not ordering it to stop in case he was wrong.

After the two days were up, he had made his decision. He would have her brought to him once more. He would perform the charm that revealed a parental bond and if she was indeed his daughter she would be saved for now. If not, everything would go back to the way it was before.

"Rodolphus!" he called, summoning the man.

"Yes my lord?" Rodolphus replied not looking him in the eye.

"Bring the girl to me," Voldemort commanded.

"Yes, my lord," he said, hurrying away.

Minutes later, she was at his feet. He stared menacingly down at the pathetic looking girl. Her clothing was in complete rags, body covered in bruises and blood, hair a brown matted mass around her head.

As he lifted his wand to perform the charm, the girl whimpered pitifully and he realized she thought he was going to torture her or kill her. Quickly, he recited the chant and waved his wand in the complicated pattern. A golden glow emanated off of her. A streak of gold slithered up and wrapped its way around his left wrist before vanishing.

Voldemort stood still, shocked by the outcome of the charm. They did, in fact, share a parental bond. She was his daughter.

"What is your name?" he asked firmly.

"Hermione," she whispered through her raw throat, voice shaky. "Hermione Granger."

"Rodolphus!" he called again.

The man, who had been right outside the door waiting to take the girl back to the dungeons quickly reentered the room, bowing low before Voldemort.

"Take," he paused. "Hermione, to a bedroom and lock her there," Voldemort commanded. "She shall not be harmed."

"Y-yes, of course, my lord," Rodolphus stammered before levitating her from the room.

Once they had left, he sent a healer up to her room to see to her wounds and ordered a house elf to give her some proper food. Shaking, he sat down in the armchair. He had a daughter. His daughter was in the manor. It seemed like a ridiculous statement. But still, it was true. Now, what was he supposed to do with her? The question still haunted him as day turned to night.

 **Author's Note:**

 **These first couple of chapters are pretty short but hopefully the chapters will start to get longer from here.**


	3. Deal or Die

**Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, they all belong to the one and only JK Rowling.**

It had been three days since Hermione had first been locked in the bedroom. It was a large room with plain white walls and rather simple furniture. In the center, against the far wall was a queen size bed with bluish silver bedding, a light blue comfortable chair that sat in one corner, and a wardrobe containing a few robes for her to wear stood along the left wall. The room had a connected ensuite bathroom so she never had to leave the confines. She was still a prisoner, but her cell was much more pleasant than the dungeon.

Hermione was shocked when a healer was sent to the room and a house elf brought her a full meal. She was very confused. One minute she is being tortured, hoping to die, and the next, healed and fed in a warm and comfortable bedroom. She wasn't complaining. This was a whole lot better; however, it did make her wonder why. What was going on? Hermione had not seen another person in three days. She had not been insulted, starved, or hurt since that short time with Voldemort. Were they preparing her for something worse?

She remembered the strange glow that seemed to surround her and connect her with the dark lord. It was absolutely terrifying! Hermione had thought that she was going to be killed, but instead, ended up here.

She thought hard about what that glow could mean. She vaguely remembered reading something of the sort in a book, though she could not recall which one. Wracking her brain for any fragment of a fact that might help her, she paced back and forth across the room.

Hermione stopped in her tracks. It couldn't possibly be. There must be a different charm that works similarly. She remembered something. The glow was normally attributed to a parental connection, whether that be maternal or paternal. That was not possible though. Hermione was a muggle-born witch. It must have been something else.

Hermione moved to the bathroom and splashed cool water on her face. Looking in the mirror, she saw a bushy haired 18-year-old girl, not some spawn of an evil snake man. She decided that it must not be true and the charm was something different, something she had yet to learn.

Her thoughts turned to her friends. While she was locked in there, were they out in hiding? Were they running for their lives? Had they already been caught? Were they being tortured as she stood there staring at her reflection in the mirror? Had they already been killed? Hermione couldn't stand the silence that she had been left with. She had nothing to do but think. She hated not being in control, hated not knowing these extremely important things. She had to believe that her friends were still alive. They were banding together right now and making a plan to kill Voldemort. That was what they were doing. The rest of Dumbledore's Army would continue the task that Harry left with them. Hermione liked the thought of her friends together in some sort of safehouse, searching for the perfect moment to strike. She had to have hope. She had to keep that thought in her mind. They were alive, and this war was not over. They were alive and the possibility was still open for them to win.

Meanwhile, Voldemort continued to wonder what to do with his newly found daughter. Sitting in his study again, he pondered the circumstances. She had been raised by muggles and definitely did not share his beliefs in pureblood supremacy. He had to keep her locked up, that was certain. Who knew what she would do if she were to be set free. Nobody even knew what she was capable of. She was _his_ daughter after all. She must be a powerful witch. It was true that she did not possess a wand at the moment, and would not be given one in the near future, but Voldemort did not know a whole lot about this girl. Had she mastered wandless magic?

The confliction continued when he thought about this Hermione. She was of noble blood and his daughter, so should she not be rewarded? On the other side of the spectrum was the horror that she had become a blood traitor. His daughter, a blood traitor! He had to grant it to her that this was not entirely her fault. She had thought she was a mudblood, grown up among the muggles, was taught by muggles. She had never been taught the truth that purebloods were superior. Could she learn to accept his ways? That was the question. Maybe eventually, when she would finally see mudbloods in their rightful place.

All of his precious Horcruxes had been destroyed, but there was nobody strong enough to stand in his way anymore. The war was finally won. Yet, having a daughter could be useful to him. It may be of interest to have an heir to ensure that his rule would continue. This Hermione could supply him with one. Yes, he could see it now. It would give him something to do to fight the boredom that had begun to commonly creep up. He would have someone to teach and train. This could be quite the success. But who could he give her to in order to make the perfect heir? Who could he afford to lose in his forces for a short while?

The perfect name entered his mind. Draco Malfoy. He was not good for much other than failure, but he was decently intelligent, good with a wand, yes, he was perfect for this task. There was very little chance for failure. They would be married and have a son who would be taught by the dark lord himself, who would one day overtake him.

He summoned the boy to his presence. The door opened and shut, and the young Malfoy stood before him, shaking slightly. He always delighted in the fear that he saw in this one. Fear made them obey.

"I have a task for you," Voldemort told him.

Draco paled and bowed his head.

"I have recently discovered something, quite remarkable," the dark lord began. "Yes, a few days ago, I made the discovery that I have a daughter, and she is here, in the Manor. A Hermione… Granger, I believe she said."

Draco's eyes widened in recognition.

"So you know this Hermione," Voldemort stated, waiting for an explanation.

"W-we went to school together," Draco stammered.

"Ah, I see. So you are already acquainted. This is good. She is very much confused as to what she should believe. This is where your task comes in. You will marry her, and conceive a son together. You will also convince her of our beliefs and standards and teach her how to be a proper pureblood woman. As you are probably aware, her childhood education on these subjects was much less than appropriate."

"Marry her? My lord," the boy clarified.

"That is correct. And you will accept this task or face torture and death," Voldemort warned. This stunned Draco into further silence. He nodded, showing his acceptance. "Very good. Now, you will go to the room where she is held at the moment and explain to her what is to happen. Have her ready to have dinner in my presence tonight. She shall be moved to your bedroom after the meal. She must be locked in the room or diligently supervised at all times. On the slim chance that you fail to successfully complete this task, you will face the consequences of my severe displeasure." He sneered.

"Y-yes my lord," the blonde replied, bowing his head briefly.

"You are dismissed," the evil wizard chuckled to himself as he watched the boy quickly escape the room.

Dinner. It was a sudden decision, but he was glad of his choice. He would see her in proper form and assess her for himself. Yes, this arrangement was quite promising.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Another chapter done! Please review! I'd love to hear what you think, what's good, what I can do better. . . Thanks so much for reading! Things are going to get interesting . . .**


	4. Enter All Enemies

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! :(**

Hermione finally collapsed into the chair in the corner. All the pacing and thinking was getting to her. She was bored and fairly certain that she was already going insane. Yes, she was safe and sound in a nice warm bedroom, but that couldn't save her from the continuous torture of her own mind. The worry she carried for her friends was beyond what she could handle and it was getting worse by the minute. She began to imagine where they were, what they were doing, the conditions they were in, and each time, the image became darker and darker. The cheerful idea that she had attempted to convince herself of, was facing a multitude of doubts.

She slumped down lower in the chair, rubbing the palms of her hands over her face and squeezing fistfuls of her somewhat fluffy hair. Hermione wasn't sure how much more of this silence she could take. She wished for anything to take away the thoughts that intruded her mind.

That anything came in the form of Draco Malfoy, the last person she expected to see. The door swung open, startling her by the unexpected sound. Her eyes shot up to the doorway where stood the pale, blonde haired boy.

"Malfoy," she greeted coldly, keeping as much of the excitement of seeing another person out of her voice as possible. Really, she should not have been glad to see him. He was a mean, terrorizing, jerk to her and her friends in school. She also didn't yet know the reason for his arrival, so it was illogical for her to feel anything but fear. Still, Hermione couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence. The anything she needed to distract her from her torturous thoughts. "What do you want?" she continued.

"What do _I_ want? Not to be here, that's what I want. Unfortunately, that's not going to happen at the moment," he replied sarcastically.

Hermione took a deep, steadying breath to hold in her irritation. "Why are you here?" she clarified.

"The dark lord gave me a task," he said bitterly.

The witch's eyes widened. Was he sent with the task of finishing her off? Was she patched up simply for Malfoy to be the one to finally kill her? No, that didn't make much sense. Her moment of fear turned to confusion.

"There's no easy way to say this, so you are going to have to listen to my full speech and then argue about it after. There are far too many mind blowing things, so it would be in the best interest of both of us if you would refrain from interrupting me until later. Agree?" Draco told her.

Hermione nodded, still thoroughly confused, brows bunching together.

"Okay then, I am going to give it to you straight. You are the dark lord's daughter-" he started.

"That-"

"What did I say about interrupting?" the blonde said before continuing. "My task is to marry you and for us to have a son together. My guess is that he wants an heir from this alliance. No proof in that, just an educated guess. Anyways, I am also supposed to teach you of the pureblood ways so you can become a proper woman."

He stopped. "That's bloody insane! All of it! There is no possibility! None of it is true! I am muggle-born! My parents are dentists! There is no way I can be his daughter!" Hermione yelled, in denial.

"You are so thick-headed! Fine, don't take my word for it, look at the proof!" Draco shouted back.

"What proof?! Nothing can prove this nonsense!" she refuted. She was on her feet now, though he still towered over her in height.

"No proof? How about you still being alive!"

"That doesn't say much. I have been a toy since the beginning for you people!"

"You are here, in this cozy bedroom, and not in the dungeons!"

"You have a point that this is very strange, but it still does not prove a thing!"

"You have been healed and fed, you don't have a scratch on you! Nobody has harmed you! Who do you think ordered that? _He_ did! Now, why would he do that?"

Hermione was close to tears. "I don't know! But I am _not_ the daughter of the evil man that killed my best friend!" she finally hollered. Silence followed.

Taking deep, shaky breaths and trying to control her emotions, she closed her eyes and pressed her palm to her forehead. She would not cry in front of _Malfoy_. Her brain told her that it was true. Everything that had happened to her at the Manor all added up. The glow, the sudden change in surroundings, being cared for, they all brought her to the conclusion that she was the daughter of the man who had been trying to destroy them. Her heart told her not to believe any of it. Was she just supposed to believe that none of her childhood was real? That everything she believed to be true was, in fact, false? No. Her heart told her that her her father was the man who had tucked her into bed each night when she was little, checked under her bed for monsters, read bedtime stories. Her father was the man who may not have magic but had plenty of love on his side.

Like most times, Hermione's brain began to win. With magic, many more things were possible. Memories can be altered, added, and removed, faces can change, people can be indefinitely hidden. Maybe somebody had not wanted Hermione to ever discover her true heritage. Maybe, it had been hidden for a reason. She just wished she knew how many of her fond memories were real.

It seemed to Hermione that Malfoy had noticed her mental defeat because he stayed quiet, waiting for her to start the next argument that they both knew would come.

Her mind then flew to the other part of Draco's announcement. Marry Malfoy! Have a son with him! There was no way!

"I will not marry you!" she finally exclaimed.

"You don't have a choice," he told her.

"It's my life, isn't it? I am of age! I don't have to do anything, even if he is my father!" Hermione yelled in exasperation.

"You have to because _he_ is your father. If you don't, there is no telling what he might do to you. Me on the other hand, I would be tortured and killed with no hesitation," the boy reminded her.

"But…but…"

"Do you think _I_ want this? Do you think I _want_ to spend my days with an annoying, insufferable know-it-all? But like it or not, we don't have a choice."

"Well, at least I'm not a mudblood, right? At least I actually have a decent blood status so you don't have to be disgusted every time you look at me," Hermione sneered coldly.

"Oh, that wasn't the only reason I was disgusted by you. Your hair, your teeth, your entire personality. Now I just have one less name to call you."

Hermione was visibly hurt. To be told that her whole personality disgusted him was like being slapped in the face. Was this going to be her life? A prisoner, married to a man who constantly found ways to make her feel small, unimportant and unwanted? She subconsciously took a step away from him.

"Maybe we'd be better off dead," she said more quietly.

Draco ran his hand through his platinum blonde hair in frustration. He seemed to realize exactly what he had just said.

"You don't get to decide my fate," he told her. "And I don't know what he will do to you if you do not accept this. He may kill you, he may just make your life hell. If you give him an heir he has a reason to protect you."

"But what would happen to me after? He can't love a daughter, especially since I was one of the people helping in the attempt to bring him down."

"I can't tell you anything for sure, but it seems that he wants to turn your loyalties. He wants me to change your opinions."

"You and I both know that will never happen."

Draco nodded. "And he has threatened to kill me for that as well."

"When will we be forced to marry?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, but I think he wants you to learn some things first," Draco replied.

"Like what?"

"Like how to act like a woman of blood status. Things such as being obedient, only to speak when spoken to, always dressed in elegant attire…"

"You really think I am going to go along with that? I will not be some trophy wife," Hermione told him adamantly.

"You will be if you want us both to live!" Then he remembered the other part of his message to her. "He wants you to have dinner with him tonight."

"What?! Why?!" She asked, sounding frightened.

"I don't know!" he exclaimed in frustration. He took a deep breath and continued. "After that, you will be moved to my bedroom."

"Excuse me?"

"You will not come back to this room. In the future, you will be locked in my bedroom. We don't have a choice in this," the blonde wizard said.

"This is ridiculous!"

"Dress nicely and be ready in two hours!" Draco turned, stomped out of the room, and slammed the door behind him, leaving Hermione standing in shock.

"This can't be happening, this can't be happening," Hermione whispered repeatedly. But it was happening. This was all very real. In two hours, she would be having dinner with Voldemort himself. Even the thought scared her. "Pull yourself together!" she told herself. She had to get ready.

Moving to the wardrobe, Hermione opened the doors and began searching for appropriate robes to wear. There was not a great selection and she wasn't sure what exactly Malfoy had meant by "nice". There was no middle ground in the robes that she had in front of her. They were either very casual or extremely formal. She decided that to go formal would be better than casual so she settled on the lavender colored dress robes.

It took Hermione nearly an hour and a half to tame her hair with the limited supplies available to her. All she had was a hairbrush and some hairspray, hardly enough to control her thick hair, but she made do.

What would her friends think if they could see her now! Dressing to go to dinner with the evilest and most powerful wizard in the world. The fact that he was actually her father was still sinking in, but every time her mind went over the evidence made her more certain. She felt as though she had waded into the ocean far too deep and didn't know how to swim. She felt like she was drowning in her own life. Nothing made sense anymore and she doubted it ever would again.

She was barely ready in time. The door opened and the pale looking Draco Malfoy re-entered the room.

"You ready?" he asked, sounding bored.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, moving to follow him out of the room and into the hall.

"Don't even think about trying to escape. I have a wand, you don't. Even if you did manage to get past me, the enchantments surrounding the manor would seriously injure you." He advised.

Hermione nodded but stayed silent, her terror growing more and more fierce with every step she took. Malfoy Manor was exceedingly large, so it took several minutes to reach the dining hall. Draco opened the door and gestured for her to enter; he, however, stayed outside.

Hermione entered the dining hall and the large door closed behind her, the sound echoing off the walls. The room was large, with extravagant looking chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and an extremely long wooden table, at the end of which sat Voldemort, his red eyes staring straight at her. The room was empty except for the two of them. Voldemort gestured towards the empty chair directly beside him. Hermione's eyes widened slightly and she inwardly screamed in fear as she timidly made her way over to the seat. She sat down slowly and stared at the table in front of her. She did not want to look at the pale man who was studying her so closely.

"By now you should be aware that I am your father," he said, his voice seeming very loud in the empty room. She nodded her head without looking up. "You have no mother, so do not bother asking," he continued. Mother. That was something Hermione had seemed to overlook. Had Voldemort been in love? Wasn't that impossible? What had happened to her biological mother? Had he killed her? Probably. "You will have a son to be my heir," Malfoy was right. "You and the Malfoy boy will be married, simply for tradition's sake. After the boy is born it will be decided whether you are worthy to live further." So that answered the question of after.

With a crack, house elves appeared in the dining hall and placed a plate of food in front of both Voldemort and Hermione. Hermione found that she had absolutely no appetite. The fear itself was enough to make her feel nauseous. Silence ensued as Voldemort began to eat, never taking his eyes off of her. She sat there, frozen in place, unable to move.

"Eat!" he commanded.

Hermione lifted a hand to grasp the fork in front of her and found her hand to shake involuntarily. Her plate was filled with chicken, vegetables, and potatoes, which at one point would have been mouth watering. Now she cringed as she took a bite. Was it poisoned? No, he wanted an heir from her, he wouldn't poison her yet. She forced herself to take another bite, chewing slowly.

Continuing the previous conversation, Voldemort stated, "You will be married in two weeks' time. If you resist in any way, you will be punished. Understood?"

Hermione nodded.

"Understood?" he asked again more harshly.

"Yes," she squeaked out.

"Good."

The rest of the dinner passed rather awkwardly. He continued to watch her, and she continued in the attempt to avoid his heavy gaze. Every once in a while, he would ask her a question of her education at Hogwarts, and of her abilities, though never once even mentioning friends, family, or previous experiences. She answered with short and simple replies, wondering if there was some sort of agenda behind the questions. She was top of the class in school and had a natural ability for learning spells, which certainly seemed to interest him.

Once the meal was finished, she was sent out of the room with a house elf, who lead her to Draco's bedroom.

As soon as the door closed behind her as she entered the room, she knew enchantments had been placed around it to ensure she could not escape. The room was extremely large; even bigger than the previous room she had been locked in. It contained an enormous bed with black bedding and had tall, dark pillars that extended off of each corner of the bed, reaching almost to the ceiling. The walls were also black with a white strip outlining the top. There was a long, comfortable looking, dark sofa accompanied by a couple armchairs in the center.

This time, Hermione was glad that Draco was nowhere to be seen. Her life was a mess. Her legs shook under the weight of it all and she collapsed into a heap in the corner, finally letting out the tears that she had been holding back all day.

 **Autor's Note:**

 **Yay! A longer chapter! It was Draco and Hermione's first interaction of the story. Tell me how it was! Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	5. Wake Me Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, that's all JK Rowling.**

After bringing Hermione to the dining hall, Draco had been sent to the sitting room where his parents were waiting to speak with him. Walking through the manor, he dreaded the moment of having to walk in that room. He knew what his parents would say about this whole arrangement and he did not want to hear it. Draco didn't like being forced into things, but somehow, his entire life had been forced upon him. At least he wasn't being called on to torture somebody, just to marry the girl he hated.

He hesitated as he stood outside the large wooden doors. On the other side, his parents were patiently waiting, and he wanted to be anywhere else. Finally, he opened the door and slipped inside.

"Draco," Lucius greeted.

"Father, Mother," Draco replied, rather stiffly.

"Have a seat," Narcissa told him, gesturing to the seat across from where they were sitting.

Lucius and Narcissa sat side by side along one of the many cream colored sofas. Slowly, Draco took his seat on the sofa across from them. This position reminded him of when he received lectures as a child. His mother gave him a small smile that did absolutely nothing to lighten the mood of the room.

"We have heard rumors," his father started. "Rumors that you are to be married, and to the Dark Lord's daughter no less." He paused, waiting for recognition of the rumors as true. Things sure made their way around the manor quickly.

"That is correct," Draco told them.

Lucius's face spread into a smile of relief. "This is good news! Such an honor. Am I to assume you are to be the father of the Dark Lord's heir?"

"I do not know for sure, but I believe so," the boy said.

"Splendid, splendid. This is sure to bring us back into the Dark Lord's good graces. This is good news for our entire family!" Lucius continued.

"Do you know who the Dark Lord's daughter is? It's Granger! From Hogwarts! If you do not remember, we despise each other," Draco reminded them.

"No matter, no matter. This is the highest honor. Your mother and I could not be more proud."

Draco looked at his mother, who seemed much less sure than her husband, but still smiled and nodded in agreement. The first time his father tells him he is proud, and it is this. This disgusted him! His father should not be proud of this!

"Are we finished here?" Draco asked darkly.

His parents' smiles seemed to falter a bit.

"Draco," Narcissa spoke. "This could be good for you. She is your age, intelligent, you can learn to get along-"

Draco interrupted "Mother, this is not the future I wanted." With that, he left the room, storming through the manor and burst outside into the night air.

He needed to clear his head. Everything was wrong. He had known before entering the room that his parents would see this arrangement as a great accomplishment, but it still angered him. Draco picked up a small stone and threw it as hard as he could over the pond, hearing it hit the water with a rather unsatisfying splash. He wanted to run, run away from his life. He desperately wanted to never see the Dark Lord again, never again be in his presence. He didn't want to be forced into any more difficult situations. He was tired of it all. He was tired of always being afraid.

Draco threw himself down onto the grass. He just wanted to lay there and clear his mind of any thoughts. The sky above him was speckled with bright dots of light. He liked looking at the stars. They made him feel some sort of peace in this terrible world.

He stayed outside, lying on the grass and looking at the stars for quite a while. He needed to calm his mind. He knew he should go back inside. Granger was probably finished with dinner and was alone in his bedroom. Draco sighed and got to his feet, moving much slower to re-enter the manor than he had to exit it.

After several minutes, he finally reached his room; however, he could not bring himself to open the door. Granger was in there held captive, and he knew she would not be happy.

Draco didn't know what was expected of him in this task. She was the Dark Lord's daughter, but that didn't mean much. Was he expected to be cruel to her? Was he expected to hurt her? He had been forced to torture people before and he knew he was not up for the task. He was not up for this life. Each time he had to torture someone came inevitable nausea and vomiting as soon as he got back to his room. He couldn't handle it. In Draco's opinion, people shouldn't be able to handle doing such things, but everybody around him seemed to actually enjoy causing pain. He may not like Granger, but he didn't want to hurt her.

He remembered when he was forced to watch her be tortured. He was supposed to do it himself, but he couldn't. It was different when he knew the person. It made him sick to even think of torturing her. He had been punished and forced to see her writhe on the floor in agony. Her screams had haunted him. He knew he couldn't do it again.

Questions flashed through his mind. Was he supposed to treat her with respect? Ignore her? Be nice? Would the Dark Lord know? Would he care? He decided that he would see how Granger was when he got in and go from there.

The door creaked slightly as he entered. It was strange to expect to see someone else in his bedroom. What was even stranger was Granger, huddled in the corner, shoulders shaking as she sobbed. Draco's gut said that he should act decently tonight. He walked over to her and crouched down. Draco started to gently take her arm, thinking to help her up and take her over to the sofa. She instantly pulled away from his touch.

"Stay, away from me," she cried.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he told her. Draco wasn't sure what to do in this situation. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. She suddenly stopped crying, her eyes widened and she gasped lightly as she stared at the handkerchief, obviously shocked by the act of kindness. So was he to be honest. Timidly she took it.

"Are you hurt?" the blonde boy asked.

Hermione shook her head no. Draco shifted and sat down next to her, careful not to brush up against her.

"Neither of us wants this, but we have to if we want to survive," he said quietly.

"This is just not how I thought my life would turn out. It's all a mess, a nightmare. I just want to wake up," she explained.

Draco nodded. "I understand that feeling."

"Why are you acting so nice to me?" she asked.

Draco really didn't have an answer to that question. He wondered if he would be punished for showing her kindness if Voldemort found out. Was he supposed to act this way? He was very unsure of the Dark Lord's intentions and didn't like not knowing.

They had both matured since school and they were now in the same situation at the moment. Draco realized that things might have changed between the two of them. He kicked himself for even thinking like that. She was frustrating and annoying, but she was sitting on his floor in tears.

"Do you know who survived?" Hermione asked.

Draco knew she was talking about the attack at Hogwarts that had changed everything. He shook his head. "Any survivors went into hiding."

"Do you know if anybody else was captured?"

He did know some of that, but he didn't want to tell her while she was in this state.

"Please tell me," she said.

He sighed. "I don't know everyone who was captured, just a couple." She looked at him expectantly. "Basically, people were killed unless the death eaters thought they could have some fun with them, then they were taken. I just know that girl from the Triwizard tournament in our fourth year, Fleur I think, and Ginny Weasley, were both taken as prisoners," he finished.

The look on Granger's face was pure agony. More tears poured down her face.

"Here I am, fed and unharmed, worried about a forced marriage, when my friends…" she couldn't finish. She took a deep breath and Draco saw a look of determination come over her face.

Draco wasn't good at comforting crying women, so the fact that she was trying to pull herself together was relieving.

"We have two weeks until the wedding," she told him quietly. He just nodded. He had expected it would be soon.

One thing Draco was certain about was that putting Granger in his room had been deliberate. They were supposed to get used to the thought of living together as a married couple. That entailed sleeping together. He wasn't about to make her do that right away though. He didn't want to sleep in the same bed as her either. He would not give up the bed for her, but she could sleep on the sofa.

"I think we are supposed to be sleeping together, but you can sleep on the sofa until you are more comfortable," he told her. He didn't want to push her any further over the edge than she already was. "You can go use the bathroom, get ready for bed, wash up, whatever," he said, standing up. He offered her his hand and pulled her up.

"Thanks," she said as she headed to the bathroom.

He sunk down into an armchair. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was actually _nice_ to Hermione Granger. To be honest with himself, she wasn't all that bad anymore. She had tamed her hair for the dinner, and he had noticed earlier that her bulging front teeth had been fixed. He really didn't know if anything else about her had changed, but she didn't seem so bad.

Then he was angry with himself. How could he think that Granger wasn't that bad? How could he think that she looked somewhat decent? This was Granger! She certainly had the same annoying behaviors and attitudes that she had in school. She should disgust him. He was going to have to live with her unless they could get out of this wedding in the next two weeks. She was going to be his wife! He cringed. He didn't want to think about it. Draco was frustrated and didn't know what to think. Life is cruel.

Hermione entered the bathroom and leaned up against the door. She had had enough of tears for one day, but they kept wanting to fall. Her eyes fell on some night clothes laying on the counter. Malfoy must have left them for her earlier in the day.

She decided that a nice hot shower might be what she needed. Hermione grabbed a big, soft white towel from the cupboard and set it near the shower.

The water felt amazing running down her body. She wished it could wash out her mind as well. She tried hard to clear it, but images of Fleur and Ginny, beaten and tortured, kept flashing in her mind. Harry was dead and now Ginny had been captured. Hermione felt so much pain for the girl. She truly had lost so much. And Fleur had been captured as well. What did that mean for Bill? He would never let anyone take her. Did that mean that he had been killed? More tears spilled down her face but she quickly washed them away.

She had to accept what was happening. She couldn't change it. In two weeks, Malfoy would be her husband. The thought disgusted her and she didn't even want to think about what had to happen to finalize the marriage on the night of the wedding. Sometime soon, she would be pregnant. She would be having a child. Hermione wanted to wake up and have the nightmare over already, but she knew that could never happen. This was her real life and nothing could change that.

What did it say about her as a person if she as the daughter of Voldemort himself? Did it make her evil? No, of course not. She tried to convince herself that her real parents were the parents she grew up with. Voldemort may be her biological father, but that didn't mean he had any influence on who she was as a person. She was influenced by the love she had been given while growing up.

Sighing, she turned off the water and grabbed the towel. It was definitely an expensive, luxurious material and she savored the soft feel of it against her skin. Quickly, she changed into the night clothes set out for her and finished getting ready for bed.

She opened the door and left the bathroom. Without saying a word, Draco rushed past her to use the room himself.

Looking to the sofa, Hermione found that he had already set it up with some blankets and a pillow. Why was he acting this way? The last visit had been one long argument, but this time, he was actually kind to her. It was all so confusing.

Hermione crawled under the blankets and realized how exhausted she was. The stressful day had really tired her out. But her mind kept wandering to her friends, and her situation. When Malfoy exited the bathroom, Hermione feigned sleep so they wouldn't have to speak to one another. He made his way straight to his own bed and turned out the lights with a flick of his wand. It was going to be a long night.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This is a very different interaction between Draco and Hermione than the last chapter but I hope you like it. Please please please review! I want to know what you guys think! Thanks for reading!**


	6. Cool Breeze

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the brilliant mind of JK Rowling, not me.**

Hermione sat in an armchair, wrapped in a blanket and reading a book. A week had passed and Malfoy hadn't said much since that first night. In fact, he didn't spend much time is his bedroom at all. He got up, used the bathroom and left each morning without saying a word and returned at night just before going to bed. Not that she was complaining, but it would be nice to talk to someone, even if it was just arguing. She tried to talk to the house elves when they brought meals to her in the room, but even they seemed to be ordered not to speak to her.

Each day was the same thing. Hermione would get up in the morning to find a new book waiting for her. For this, she was extremely grateful. Not only did this give her something to do, but it also gave her something to look forward to each day. Though one book per day was hardly enough, it was a surprisingly nice gesture from Malfoy and Hermione would take what she could get.

She would lay on the sofa or sit in an armchair and read the book that Draco gave her that day. Sometimes Hermione re-read a book from a previous day once she finished the new one; if only to give her something to do. She was always excited to wake up and see which book Malfoy had brought her this time. Occasionally she had already read the book before, but it was constantly a surprise; a good surprise.

Though she had a few books and the few visits from the house elves at meal times, Hermione couldn't help the spread of loneliness as the days passed. She scolded herself each time she thought of this. Others, her friends, were facing much worse than boredom and loneliness. How dare she complain to herself?

Malfoy had been surprisingly good at choosing books that Hermione would find interesting. She recalled reading the book of the Salem witch trials. As much as it disgusted her, this piece of history where the magical and muggle worlds overlapped was fascinating to her. She had read that book three times since it had been given to her.

Finished reading her current book, she closed the cover and made her way over to the large window. It was the closest she had been to the outdoors in two and a half weeks. Hermione loved to stand by that window and look out at the wonderful view the room had over the gardens, imagining what it would be like for her to walk among the flowers. She bet that it would be glorious, slowly moving from bush to bush, flower bed to flower bed, inhaling the beautiful fragrances of the different varieties. She missed feeling the sun warm her skin and the rise of gooseflesh caused by a sudden breeze. Hermione hated being cooped up indoors. It would be a dream if she were able to sit outside in the sun and gorge on her selection of books. She smiled at the thought but shook her head. She couldn't even imagine that wish being granted.

Every once in a while, the weight of what had happened and what was still occurring would hit her. Hermione would wonder how the sky stayed so bright, how the flowers continued to be beautiful, how the world outside looked so lively when her life was crashing around her in pieces. How could life outside those walls continue as if nothing had happened at all? One of her best friends was dead, another tortured and locked in a dungeon cell, and others, she had no idea. Sometimes the pressure was too much.

Hermione took a deep breath. She had one week until the wedding. One week until she would be married, would be the wife of Draco Malfoy. She cringed at the thought. Even though the days passed slowly, they went by far too quickly for her liking. She would wait forever if she had her choice. It was all a little overwhelming and she had nobody to tell. She longed for Ginny to be with her, to give her advice, to talk to, to release some of this binding pressure. But Ginny was dealing with her own hell, and Hermione didn't know what to do about it.

Even though she knew Malfoy was beating himself up inside, Hermione would never forget the night two days previous when he had run into the room, pale and clammy and had headed straight for the toilet.

 _She heard a horrible retching noise coming from behind the closed door. Hermione knew that something was very wrong. She hoped he was just sick but knew she was sadly mistaken when she heard crying. Draco Malfoy was crying. Hermione couldn't believe what she was witnessing. Against her better judgment, she knocked on the door._

 _"Draco?" she asked softly. His first name felt strange on her lips._

 _Instantly, the crying stopped. There was a pause of silence before the door was slammed open._

 _"What?" he sneered coldly. His eyes were hard but they still held a watery film of unshed tears._

 _Hermione took a step backward. "I was worried. I wanted to know what happened," she said quietly._

 _"That's none of your business," he growled._

 _Hermione took another step._

 _"Yes. You should be afraid of me," he added, noticing her back up._

 _"What?" it was Hermione's turn to ask._

 _"I'm dangerous. I would do anything the Dark Lord asks. I tortured a girl today. He forced me, but I still chose to do it," Draco told her._

 _"Who?" she asked, shaking. Hermione dreaded the answer but had an idea of what it might be._

 _"Ginny Weasley," he stated. With that, Draco stormed out of the room, almost as quickly as he had entered._

 _Hermione continued to stand in place, too shocked to move. It felt as though a hole had been ripped out of her chest, she was having trouble catching a breath._

 _Malfoy had tortured Ginny._

How would Hermione be able to get over something like that? Yes, he was forced, but he even said that he chose to do it. And in one weeks' time, she would be married to him, the person who tortured one of her best friends. What was worse, being the daughter of the person who murdered your friends, or being the wife of the person who tortured them? Hermione had both.

Hermione had begun to feel quite claustrophobic a couple of days earlier, even though the room was quite large. Every once in a while, she would feel panic settling in that she would never escape its confines. It felt as though the room was closing in on her, shrinking smaller and smaller each day. But maybe it was really her mind that was the prison. She read and watched out the window, but the rest of the time she was left with her thoughts. All that her mind wanted to do was relive that awful night and remind her the speed at which the wedding was approaching.

She wanted to confront Malfoy about all of this. About wanting to leave the room, about the books, about what happened that night in the bathroom.

That night, Hermione stood in the center of the room, waiting for Malfoy to return from wherever he went during the day. She was nervous about the confrontation and wasn't quite sure what to start with.

The door opened and the blonde haired boy entered the room, stopping abruptly in his step when he saw the way Hermione was looking at him.

"What?" he asked harshly.

"We need to talk," she told him.

"We have talked," the boy argued.

"No, we haven't. We have passed each other by, and had one, three-minute incident in a week. Considering we are staying in the same room, that is extremely little talking."

"Fine, what do you want to talk about?" he asked angrily.

Hermione brought up the first thing on her mind.

"We need to discuss what happened the other night," the witch said.

Draco paled. "We will _not_ talk about that," he simply stated.

"Yes, we will. You can't just tell me that you tortured my friend and not discuss that!" The volume of Hermione's voice was rising steadily.

"Fine. You want to know exactly what happened?" Draco moved towards her. "I was called into the Dark Lord's presence and she was already there, on the floor, cowering. The only reason he called me at all was to watch me torture her. I stood there for a while wondering what to do when he told me if I didn't he would torture her until she lost her mind completely while I watched and then punish me after. What did you want me to do? Just let him do that? So I crucioed her. Every time he told me to," he finally finished.

Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't want to hear any more. She closed her eyes but quickly reopened them when she saw Ginny on the floor, screaming in pain behind her eyelids. In that situation, what _would_ she have done? At least Ginny still had her mind. At least there was still some hope left for her, right? Was there any right thing to do in that situation?

"I'm sorry," she breathed. It must have been horrible for him. Based on his reaction when he got back to his room that day, it was one of the hardest things he had been forced to do.

" _You're_ sorry?" he looked angry and confused.

"It must have been awful," she continued.

He looked even paler and nodded. "The death eaters have this belief that in order to be a real man you have to enjoy inflicting pain. It's sick."

Hermione thought of all the times he had bullied her in school. Was he not enjoying it then? Was he just pretending to enjoy it, or was there something different about hurting someone emotionally and hurting them physically?

There was silence before Draco spoke again. "Was that all?"

"Not really. We only have one week left." More silence. "I am going insane in here. I have no one to talk to, I am always cooped up in here, I just need a little bit of fresh air," Hermione explained.

Draco let out a rueful chuckle. "So after hearing about everybody else's personal hell, you want to complain about not getting any fresh air? I can't believe that just came out of your mouth! You should be grateful! I didn't realize you were so self-centered." He glared at her before turning towards the door. "I can't even be in this room with you right now," he said as he walked out of the room again.

The door slammed behind him. Hermione was so ashamed of herself. How could she have been that selfish? Malfoy was right. She was disgusted. A tear trickled down her face as she thought of the things she had said and the long night ahead of her.

The next morning, Hermione was not surprised that Malfoy was already gone, and that he had not left a book for her. She would have done the same thing. Still, she felt the loss. It may be horrible and selfish of her, but she was bored, and she did want to go outside. She scolded herself. She did not deserve those luxuries. Malfoy saw that.

It seemed that she was wrong about many things that day. Instead of the house elf that she had grown to expect at midday for lunch, Draco stood at the door.

"Come on," he said through clenched teeth. Hermione raised her brows in shock and confusion. What was going on?

Hesitantly, she made her way over to where he was standing.

"I wasn't fair to you last night. Yes, Ginny and I have some _serious_ problems, but that doesn't mean you don't have real problems too," he told her.

"What are you saying? You were right! I was horrible, and selfish, and had no right to bring up such petty things," she replied.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "I should have known that you would react like this. I was _trying_ to apologize. Just come on," he said, holding the door open.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"Outside," Malfoy answered.

The young witch gasped, a sliver of a smile appearing on her face.

"Really?" she clarified, not wanting to get her hopes up if he was just playing some cruel joke on her.

"Yes, really. Just remember not to attempt escape. I have put extra wards up around the place we are going to go and the manor wards will still do some serious damage," he reminded.

"I understand," she replied, hardly able to contain her excitement. She heard Malfoy chuckle a bit beside her. He must have noticed.

Reaching the garden, Draco led Hermione to a small patch of grass surrounded by pink, purple, and bright orange flowers. Over the patch of grass was a large picnic blanket with lunch for the two of them on top. This must have been just outside the view from the window because she had never noticed it before. It was beautiful.

"Did you do this?" she asked in awe.

"Who else would have?" he asked as though it were a stupid question.

"Thank-you," she said quietly.

It was a fairly warm spring day but the crisp breeze made it slightly cool. She sat down across from him on the blanket, smiling.

"Are you cold?" he asked, eyes falling to the gooseflesh rising on her arms.

"A bit, but it feels amazing," she assured him. Hermione closed her eyes and welcomed the cool wind as it brushed past her face.

The two began to eat in silence, simply savoring the few moments with the illusion of freedom.

"What is your funniest childhood memory?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"What? What kind of a question is that?" Malfoy questioned back.

"I don't know. I just thought we should get to know each other a little bit more since I thought we were on speaking terms and we are getting married in less than a week," she rambled.

"So you ask about my childhood?"

"Something funny from your childhood. Thought it would lighten the mood," she added more quietly.

"Fine," he paused, thinking. "When we were little, Blaise Zabini and I used to spend a lot of time together. We always played these stupid pranks on one another and thought we were so clever. One day, I found this potion that I knew caused someone to get sick, like throwing up. I thought it would be so funny if I were to put it in Blaise's food while he wasn't watching. I didn't get the chance until the meal was almost over, and I didn't realize he was already finished eating. I also didn't know that the house elves were allowed to eat the leftovers. Anyways, when the house elf was serving desert, it started to vomit all over everything!" Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the image of the poor house elf throwing up all over their formal family dinner. "That isn't the end," he continued. "Blaise and I were so scared that my father knew it was us that we hid in the closet all night. Of course after that, we realized he didn't have a clue that the elf had even been poisoned."

Now they were both smiling and laughing together. Hermione didn't think she had ever heard Malfoy laugh so genuinely before. It was most becoming of him. She scolded herself for thinking that. It was Malfoy!

"Okay, my turn to ask a question," he said. He thought for a moment before asking, "If you could only have one, would you rather have intelligence or looks and why?" Such a Malfoy question.

"Intelligence, no question there," she told him. "You can't get very far in life if you have only looks. Intelligence is what keeps you alive, gives you success, plus I love learning things and it is hard to learn things without intelligence, which its definition in part is the ability to learn…" She stopped herself. She knew she was getting too far into the facts. Malfoy probably thought she was as much a know-it-all as ever. But why did she care?

"With whom did you have your first kiss?" she asked.

"Pansy Parkinson," he replied. Draco grinned at the look on Hermione's face. He knew she hated Pansy.

"If you could eat one meal for the rest of your life, what meal would it be?" Draco asked.

"Have you ever had Mexican food?" She answered vaguely.

"Hey, this was my question," Malfoy scolded jokingly.

"Like burritos and quesadillas," she explained. Draco looked very confused. "I'm guessing no. Maybe someday, if I get the chance, I can make it for you. That is my answer."

"Okay…"

The questions then got more serious.

"If you were immortal for one day, what would you do?" Hermione asked.

Draco answered quite quickly. "Challenge the Dark Lord and put an end to all this," he said rather solemnly.

She didn't know why, after the discussion they had the night before, but Hermione hadn't expected that to be Malfoy's answer. It made her think, maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

He quickly asked her a question to take the tension off him. "If you could re-live one day of your life, but not to change anything, what day would it be and why?"

"The day I got my Hogwarts letter," she answered, smiling to herself. "I finally found out why I was different, and even though my parents didn't really understand, they were so proud." Just thinking of her parents made her chest tighten. No. Not now. She would not cry and ruin the wonderful time they were having.

The rest of the time the two had outside together was spent talking, and asking more questions. It was the most civil they had ever been to each other. Even though it felt sort of odd, it was also nice.

Their time outside came to a close all too quickly for Hermione's liking, but she was exceedingly grateful for it all the same. Draco led her back to the bedroom, leaving the picnic for the house elves to clean up, which Hermione did not necessarily agree with.

"I'll get you another book tomorrow morning," he told her as they entered the bedroom.

Hermione turned to him. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked and instantly regretted it. His face turned hard.

"Maybe I just don't want my future wife to have gone insane," he said defensively.

"I apologize, I shouldn't have asked," the witch quickly added, trying to regain the light mood. That mood was long gone and soon, so was Malfoy.

Why _was_ he being so nice to her? Why had he gone through all the trouble of bringing her outside and preparing the picnic for her? He should not have wanted to do anything for her. She wasn't nearly as annoying as she had been in school, and not bad looking either, he admitted. This left him thoroughly confused and he berated himself for thinking that way.

But they _had_ had fun on the picnic. They had gotten to know a few more things about one another. Maybe he shouldn't have stormed out of the room again. She just would not stop questioning his intentions. He needed to clear his head of her.

He marched to the library hoping to get lost in a book. The problem was, he couldn't focus. His mind kept flashing back to Granger and the few fun hours that they had spent together.

Maybe they should try to be friends if there was no way out of this marriage. It was going to happen in less than a week. He decided that he would _try_ to be friends. No promises. He would _try_ to be decent to her. Who knew what the future had in store for them.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I had a lot of fun writing that picnic scene :P Tell me what you think! I want to say a huge thanks to everybody who has reviewed so far. I appreciate it so much! Keep reviewing! It really means a lot to me and inspires me to keep writing. Thanks for reading!**


	7. New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to the brilliant JK Rowling.**

The next morning, Draco decided not to leave the room like he normally did. The night before, he had come back from the library with two books; one for Granger, and one for himself in case he wanted to stay. Draco was always awake before Granger. He flopped back the luxurious blankets of the large bed and tossed his feet out the side. Sitting there, he looked over at the sleeping form on his sofa. Granger had curled herself into the blankets but seemed peaceful, her brown hair sprawled around her head on the pillow. Draco smiled. Even when she slept that hair was wild.

Slipping off the bed, Draco placed the new book on the small table by the sofa, grabbed some robes for the day, and headed into the bathroom to shower and change. Standing under the hot water, he tried to clear his mind so he could actually enjoy it. That was far too much to ask. His mind never gave him any peace, especially now with this whole arrangement with Granger. He would soon be _married_ to her. Draco was having a hard time wrapping his head around this. What did he really know about her now? She was the Dark Lord's daughter, she loved to read books, she enjoyed learning, she liked this strange Mexican food. Not a whole lot to go on if she was going to be his wife. Then it struck him. What was he supposed to call her once they were married? He had been calling her Granger since their first year at Hogwarts. He supposed she was technically Hermione Riddle right now, but that was just weird. After the wedding, she would be Hermione Malfoy. Hermione Granger, a Malfoy. He shook his head. This was all far too strange for his liking.

Draco turned the shower off and dried himself with a towel before slipping into his robes. Turning towards the bathroom door, he realized this was his last chance to change his mind about staying in the room that day. No. He was finished hiding from this, from her.

He pushed open the door to see Granger just waking up. She was sitting up on the sofa, reaching her arms above her head in a large stretch. Draco took the book he had brought for himself and sat in one of the armchairs.

"You aren't leaving?" Granger asked, sounding surprised.

"No, I decided that I wanted to relax in my own bedroom today. Is that alright with you?" He replied sarcastically. The witch just rolled her eyes and stood up, heading for the bathroom. Why _was_ he staying again? Draco had to remind himself. Right, no more running from everything. He had promised himself that he would _try_ to be decent and start this thing right.

When Granger finally came out of the bathroom, she was smiling. Without saying a word, she picked up the book and sat cross-legged on the sofa.

"What are you so happy about?" Draco inquired snidely.

"Nothing really. I haven't had any company other than the couple of minutes a house elf is here to drop off some food, and even they won't talk to me. It's just been lonely is all," she explained.

"Oh," he replied dumbly.

Over the next few days, Draco started to spend more and more time in the bedroom. He even began eating with Granger at meal times. The only exception was dinner, which he had to spend with his parents. Each day, the two spent their time gradually getting closer both physically and emotionally.

The first day had been slightly awkward; not a lot of talking, just reading, and on separate sides of the room. The next day, Draco sat in the chair that was closest to the sofa and spent breakfast and lunch with the witch. Throughout that day, somehow, Draco had ended up on the opposite side of the couch from where Granger was sitting. After that, he realized he actually didn't mind spending time with her. They read their books, talked, ate meals together, and by that next night, Draco found himself sitting next to Granger on the sofa, just far enough away so they didn't touch.

They talked mostly about light subjects to attempt to distract themselves from the seriousness of their situation. They discussed things such as favorite colors, animals, time of year, whether they liked the warm or cold, and other small details. They still had their share of petty arguments, but surprisingly, the time went by with quite civil conversations.

The day they both wanted to forget about was fast approaching. This was one topic that neither of them touched on during those few days, though it was inevitable that the discussion had to come.

"We have to talk about tomorrow," Granger said, turning to face him.

Draco sighed. He had known this was coming, but he supposed she was right.

"I can't believe it's tomorrow already," he murmured.

"There is no way to get out of it is there," the witch stated.

"No. There isn't."

"A lot is going to happen and we have to be prepared for it," Hermione insisted.

Draco simply nodded. They looked at each other. No words were needed to describe the worry they both shared. Firstly, they would have to kiss, and in front of a bunch of death eaters. Then, they would have to dance together, and finally, the thing that neither of them really wanted to think about was what they had to do that night. In order to finalize the marriage bond, they would have to be intimate with one another.

"Tomorrow we will be bonded by magic that can only be broken with death," Draco told her. She nodded slightly, lips in a firm line.

"I just wish I had a choice in all of this," she spoke sadly.

"We both do," he assured her. But now that he thought of his current situation, he knew that this was slightly different for him. He could finally see why his parents thought this could be a good thing for him. Yes, he could get any girl he wanted while he was in school, but now, since the Dark Lord had won, he was a feared man by many. He found that he was glad that Granger was not afraid of him.

"I wish that I could have a least been involved in the planning of my own wedding. I always dreamed of shopping for the dress, the cake, looking at decorations and flowers," she explained.

"My mother is doing most of the planning so I know it is going to be lovely," Draco said, attempting to assure her of this. Granger simply shook her head sadly.

"It just isn't the same. You wouldn't understand."

Draco didn't like being told that he didn't understand something, but maybe in this situation, he didn't understand completely, so he let it go.

"I wish my parents could be there, that my father, the father I grew up with could walk me down the isle. I wish my friends could be there. No matter what, I always wanted Ron and Harry…" she trailed off at Harry's name and Draco could see that tears had formed in her eyes. "I always wanted them to be there. And Ginny should be my maid of honor. Everything is just all wrong." She could no longer contain herself and the tears rolled down her face as her shoulders shook.

He didn't know why, but Draco got the sudden urge to comfort her. He had never really been comforted when he was upset. His mother was not allowed to and his father didn't even care. He feared he didn't know how. He put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. She didn't pull away so he assumed he was doing something right. She dug her face into his robes as she cried. Draco hadn't realized how much this wedding would affect her. It was a pretty big event in her life and having the death of her best friend still so fresh probably made this whole situation even worse for her.

Draco sat stiffly, holding her until her vigorous shaking turned to deep breaths. She pulled away and wiped the tear stains from her face. She looked embarrassed and ashamed. He probably would have felt that way too if he were her, crying all over the one you were supposed to hate. Draco didn't say anything.

"Do you know how everything is going to happen tomorrow before the wedding?" she asked trying to ignore the crying incident.

Draco played along. "My mother will take you to another room to help you with your hair and makeup, and the dress, and stuff," he explained awkwardly. "The wedding is being held in the gardens so you will be brought out there once you two are finished."

The next morning, Hermione was woken up early by a small, wrinkly house elf.

"Mistress needs you in the dressing room now," the elf croaked.

Hermione sighed groggily. It was time.

"Should I bring anything?" she asked.

"No. Come," the small creature commanded.

Without any more questions, Hermione stood up from the sofa and followed the elf. She was led to a large room that contained an enormous mirror with a small stool in front of it, a bath tub already filled with water, and a chair in front of a counter with yet another mirror. She stood in awe.

"You have bath first," the elf said. Then with a pop, it was gone.

Hermione looked at the water and tested it with a finger. It was warm. She looked around, seeing a towel and a bathrobe lying beside the tub. She decided that she was supposed to get in the bath now, so she took off her sleep clothes and sunk beneath the surface. The water was much deeper than she had thought, coming comfortably to the top of her shoulders. She lay in the luxurious bath until the water began to get cold. Because with magic it is possible to make the water stay warm forever, she guessed that she was supposed to get out now.

As soon as she left the water, the cool air of the room nipped at her skin and she quickly wrapped herself in the soft towel before pulling on the bathrobe. Just as she had done so, she heard the door open and Narcissa Malfoy entered the room.

"Hermione. A pleasure to meet you under, pleasant circumstances," Narcissa greeted. She was referring to the previous time they had come face to face while her sister Bellatrix tortured her for information about the sword of Gryffindor.

Hermione nodded. She wouldn't necessarily call the current situation pleasant, but it was definitely a lot more so than the last time.

Narcissa Malfoy was much less intimidating than Lucius Malfoy, though with much of the same superior attitude. She moved over to Hermione in graceful, fluid motions, seeming to examine every inch of Hermione's body, making her feel slightly uncomfortable. She kept mumbling, "what might work with that hair." Narcissa guided Hermione to the chair by the counter and began working on taming her morning frizz.

It did not take nearly as long as it had for Hermione to do it herself. With the help of a few charms and many hair pins, it was just under an hour. She looked at herself in amazement. Her brown, normally quite bushy hair was pulled back into a neat bun with a braid on one side, and a small bit of hair hanging like a frame, curled, by the side of her face. She had never before seen her hair look as beautiful.

Next came the makeup. With some smoky eye shadow, a thin line of eyeliner slightly winged out to the sides and some mascara, Hermione thought she looked like a princess. It was strange having a woman she barely knew touching her face like that, but she was definitely pleased with the way it turned out.

Next came the dress. Narcissa summoned it from a different room and Hermione's jaw dropped at the sight of it. It had a strapless a-line bodice that was covered in a white floral-like design. It dipped out around the hip and changed to a thin white mesh-like material. Narcissa helped her into the dress and adjusted to fit perfectly to Hermione's form. Standing in front of the large mirror, she could see Narcissa smiling behind her.

"My Draco will be amazed," she told Hermione.

Hermione couldn't help but smile too. She had never seen herself this way before; beautiful.

"Here, put these on," Narcissa said, holding out a pair of silver strappy heels. "Everybody is already outside now. It shouldn't be long."

Taking the heels and putting them on, Hermione had one last time to look in the mirror before being swept off into the hallway, heading towards the garden.

The Garden was beautifully set up with chairs along each side of the aisle in rows surrounded by patches of flowers. At the end of the aisle was a small stone platform covered by an archway of vines. The vines themselves were flourished with large pink flowers. It seemed strange to see all the death eaters sitting in the decorating white seats, almost laughable if she wasn't so nervous.

Hermione stood some ways behind everyone, but she could see Malfoy standing at the end already. He really did look handsome in his dark dress robes. It was a sunny and warm day and perfect for the outdoor wedding. Hermione wondered if somebody had used magic to make it that way.

To her utter horror, Hermione saw Voldemort himself walking to her side. She had not seen him since he had made her have dinner with him. To say she was surprised would be an understatement, but she guessed that she was technically his daughter so it would make sense for him to be the one to 'give her away' so to speak. He couldn't just let her have this day for a little peace, he had to go and ruin it with his presence. Hermione had hoped that he wouldn't be there, but that was obviously too much to dream of.

"Daughter," he greeted coolly and held out his arm for her to take.

Hermione tried hard not to grimace. She did not want to touch him, but she also did not want to experience his wrath right now, so she just took the arm extended to her and hoped for it all to be over soon. She looked at the ground in front of her to avoid the snake man's scrutinizing gaze.

The wedding music began playing in a slow tune that sounded to Hermione like a death march. Slowly, the Dark Lord led her down the aisle. All eyes were on her, but she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to see all the death eaters ogling her, so she concentrated on Malfoy standing alone on the stone platform. Wait. Why was he alone? Wasn't there supposed to be somebody up there with the authority to marry them? Then it struck her. Voldemort was going to pronounce them husband and wife! Of course, he would make himself the top authority of such an event if only to make it more miserable for the people involved. She stared straight at Malfoy, trying to block out everything else, and noticed that he was also staring at her. His mask slipped just a bit so that she could see his impressed expression before he went back to being completely neutral.

Hermione was surprised when she actually felt a sense of comfort in Malfoy's eyes. Being the object of attention of all the people who previously wanted her dead was extremely nerve wracking and uncomfortable. The long train on the dress dragged behind her through the grass as she slowly stepped in time with the music.

Finally reaching Malfoy, he held out his hand for Hermione, who took it and gratefully stepped away from Voldemort. The Dark Lord moved behind them and began the vows. Hermione barely seemed to register what was going on around her. She focused hard on Malfoy's eyes, on the strength in his hands as they stood facing each other, both of her hands clasped in his. Voldemort was speaking and she was repeating, but she didn't fully understand the words. It was like a fog shielded her from any stimulus other than the man in front of her. She guessed it had something to do with the marriage bond forming.

"I do," she said as the vows were becoming complete.

Voldemort spoke again and she heard Malfoy say "I do," across from her.

Rings were presented and Malfoy slipped the large silver band onto her left ring finger. The ring had an emerald stone in the center, surrounded by many small diamonds. It was beautiful, but much too Slytherin for her liking. Hermione was given another silver band to put on Malfoy's finger. Voldemort's wand came into view and the ring grew quite hot, though not altogether uncomfortable and a tingling sensation flooded through her body.

"You may now kiss," Voldemort completed.

Malfoy's hands slid up Hermione's shoulders and brought her closer to him. She was so close that their noses brushed and she felt the warmth of his breath on her face. Hermione looked up into his eyes as their lips met and the energy that had been coursing through her body finally exploded and surrounded them with a pink glow. She closed her eyes and felt the bond connect them in a way she had never before experienced. Everything else was blocked out except for the bright light that was still visible behind her eyelids, and Malfoy's soft lips against hers. Slowly, the light faded away and the two separated.

Everything around her now seemed amplified, as if Hermione had just surfaced from being underwater. There were a few claps from the characteristically dark audience and Voldemort spoke once more.

"The bond will be completed after uniting in sexual relations tonight," he announced. That was an exceedingly strange phrase to be said by the Dark Lord himself. There were multiple things at the wedding which seemed more than a bit off, but Hermione had bigger issues to worry about.

There was a sudden burst of movement as people lined up on either side of the aisle with their wands drawn. A long archway of golden light formed above their heads as Draco and Hermione made their way back up the aisle. Malfoy kept a tight grasp on her hand as he led her away from the party of death eaters.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"The rest of the wedding will occur in the orchard. We have our first dance and then you can go change into other dress robes more appropriate for the meal," he told her.

"Oh," she said.

Soon, she found herself under a canopy of green leaves. There were several tables covered in white tablecloths arranged in a large semi-circle. In the empty space was the band that would be playing for the dance. People began arriving shortly after them, sitting around the many tables. Hermione spotted Malfoy's parents arrive and take their seat at the center table, opposite the band. Narcissa's eyes were noticeably watery. She could tell that Narcissa had been attempting to control her emotions in the presence of the death eaters and would not allow herself to cry, and show that weakness. Hermione thought this was very sad; that she wasn't allowed to be emotional at her own son's wedding.

Once everyone was seated, the slow music began playing again and all eyes returned to the new couple. This song was different than the one earlier, but still held the sad tones it seemed to Hermione.

Hermione hated being the center of the death eaters' attention and it made her visibly more nervous.

"Just focus on me," Malfoy whispered into her ear as he brought her close.

His hands came to rest on her hips while Hermione's wrapped around the back of his neck. They both stepped in sync with the music. Her heart raced with adrenaline. Without the effect of the bond beginning to form, she could feel the pressure of many eyes on her. She tried to focus simply on the man in front of her but it was proving to be a difficult task.

It seemed to take forever before the music finally came to a stop.

"I'll walk you back to the manor," Draco offered.

"Thanks," Hermione replied. She would have argued this offer had she not known that she would have gotten lost had he not been there. Plus, she didn't trust the other death eaters.

The celebrations continued with food, music, and dancing, but Hermione did not enjoy any of it. She was still frightened at the prospect of being among so many death eaters, even though she knew that she was off limits for them, at the moment anyways. She stayed rather quiet throughout the event, only speaking when asked a direct question. Finally, the occasion came to a close and Malfoy led her back to the room for the last time that night.

Her stomach was in knots. It seemed that Malfoy was feeling the same way as his face was hard and grim. They had both been dreading the moment that was now upon them. The kiss hadn't been that bad, in fact, Hermione had to admit that she had found it quite pleasurable, but that also could have been the bond being formed.

She took a deep breath as they entered the bedroom. This was it, their future together awaited.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I know a lot of you were anticipating this chapter so I apologize for taking a bit longer! For some reason I was having a bit of trouble writing some parts. Oh well, I hope I did it justice for you guys! Please tell me what you think!**


	8. Trapped

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and world belong to JK Rowling.**

Hermione groggily blinked open her eyes. She was still lying in Draco's bed. It was extremely large and quite comfortable, but very strange to wake up to all the same. Hermione's eyes grew large when she realized that she was naked under the covers. She looked to Draco, who was still asleep beside her. Last night, she had seen a very different side of him that he had never shown before. In school, he had always been arrogant and degrading to her and she had expected no less from him that night. Draco had been gentle with her and didn't make her feel any more self-conscious or ashamed than she already was. In fact, he did the opposite. Never would she have believed that Draco Malfoy would call her beautiful, yet, he had. Maybe it was simply to get her to relax and feel more confident and less awkward, but his words kept running through her mind. He had also called her Hermione. Using her first name was strange, but surprisingly nice. Perhaps things really were changing between them.

Hermione examined the ring on her finger. It was gorgeous but reminded her that she would spend the rest of her life, however long that may be, with the man who now slept beside her. She was now Hermione Malfoy. The fact that this was all very real was making her head spin. Since they were both technically 'Malfoy' now, and he had used her first name last night, Hermione thought she just might start calling him Draco. Completely depending of course on what he decided to call her in the morning.

Draco sighed in his sleep and rolled over in the bed so he was facing her. Hermione wanted to get out of bed, shower, and continue the day as normal, but she wasn't wearing anything and she didn't want to risk making a run for the bathroom if Draco could wake up and see her. Everything was done now; who knew if the Draco that had shown himself at night would still be there that morning. Hermione thought hard about any way out of this awkward situation. Why wasn't he awake? Previously, he had always woken up before her. Why was today any different? Surely he would wake soon. Hermione decided that it would be best for her to stay safely hidden under the covers until that time.

Hermione took this moment to not-so-subtly examine her new husband. He was indeed a handsome man, she had to admit, and she smiled at his untidy hair, deciding that she liked it better that way. But there was something about the expression on his face as he slept that felt somewhat off. Hermione thought he was supposed to look peaceful, but instead, his features seemed tight and strained, like he was overwhelmed by worries and his mind was making him re-visit them all in his sleep. She frowned, puzzled by this. Was this always the case or was there something about last night that brought about the expression? Maybe he was unhappy with how things had gone. Was he disappointed? Did he only say the things he did to make her more willing? Doubts flooded her mind and her insecurities rose.

Slowly, Draco's eyes opened. Hermione bit her bottom lip nervously as he adjusted to reality.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked.

"A few minutes," she replied.

"You know, you could have gotten up," he said, sitting up, pulling the covers with him.

Hermione scrambled to cover herself back up, blushing fiercely.

"Oh. I'll grab you a blanket," he added, sounding amused.

Draco didn't have any hesitation with sliding out of the bed and walking across the room. Hermione admired his confidence but wondered how exactly he had gotten that way. Had he been intimate like that with so many other girls that he was used to people seeing him, or was it something different? He handed her the blanket and moved to his closet to find some robes to wear. Hermione wrapped herself in the blanket and hurried to the bathroom before he could turn around again.

Draco chuckled to himself. He should have expected Hermione to be self-conscious about being naked in front of him. They were husband and wife now, but that didn't mean things were any less awkward. He slipped on his robes and started heading for the door. It had been her first time last night, and Draco thought she might want to be alone for a bit. It had been obvious to him how nervous she had been, and he had done his best to make it a pleasurable experience for her. Hermione had become a beautiful woman, but she had been completely shocked when he had told her that. She had probably written it off as part of the role he had played for her. Draco had seen the self-doubt in her eyes, some of which, he had a part in putting there. He knew they needed to go slow with this, and that she needed time to herself.

As soon as Draco's hand reached the knob, a searing pain soared from his hand up his arm and he jumped backward yelping. Looking down at his hand, he saw his flesh was burned across his palm. His eyes widened in surprise and confusion. What was going on? Draco pulled out his wand and healed the wound before attempting some unlocking spells. Nothing seemed to work. Even apparition was no longer an option. His wand had worked to heal his hand, but it was as though any magic he tried in order to leave the room was blocked. He was trapped with Hermione. A prisoner in his own house, in his own bedroom.

He huffed in frustration and plunked himself down onto the sofa, holding his head in his hands. It seemed that the wards had been modified specifically to him, to block _his_ magic. Was that even possible?

It wasn't like he spent all that much time outside the bedroom anyway, he simply did not like being trapped, being forced to stay there. What did this mean? What was the purpose of locking them in the room together? To ensure Hermione's pregnancy? What was going to happen to them?

Hermione came out of the bathroom and sat down on the sofa next to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, obviously noticing the tension in his body.

"There has been a new development in this sick and twisted plot," Draco started.

The witch exhaled heavily. "What now?"

"We are both trapped in here now," he explained.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that no matter what I do, I cannot get out of this room and neither can you," he replied.

"Did you try everything?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course I tried everything. It seems that the wards have been modified to be resistant specifically to my magic."

"Is that even possible?" she muttered.

"Apparently," he mumbled back.

"But what does he want from us?" Hermione kept firing questions.

"I don't know and it is beginning to really frustrate me. He never tells me what he is expecting so it makes it exceedingly easy for me to fail. I am getting pretty tired of this. I thought my purpose in this was to get you pregnant, now he is adding on all these extras that I don't know what to do with. What does he expect us to do, continuously shag until something happens?" he saw Hermione's eyes go wide and her face pale. "Of course we wouldn't do that," he added quickly. There was something else present in her eyes after what he had said that he couldn't quite place. Pain?

A tapping sound at the window distracted them.

"It's an owl," Hermione pointed out. She got up to open the window.

"Hermione don't touch the window!" he quickly warned. Draco wondered to himself why he cared if she got hurt or not.

"Why not?" she asked.

"I touched the door knob and it burned my hand pretty badly," he explained.

"Oh, well, thanks," she said awkwardly.

Draco didn't want to risk touching the window either so firstly, he attempted to use magic to open it. When that didn't work, he cautiously used his wand as a lever to pry open the window. He was only able to get it open far enough for Hermione to carefully untie the letter from the owl's leg. As soon as it was released, the owl flew away into the morning sky. The window fell shut with a slam. Draco could tell that the letter frightened Hermione as she was visibly shaking as she made her way back to the sofa, fiddling with the paper between her fingers.

Draco took the envelope from her and opened it, revealing a piece of parchment with a short note scrawled on the inside.

 _Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,_

 _I am sure by now you have discovered your new situation. This is quite temporary. The wards will come down for young Malfoy once Hermione is pregnant and when I see fit. Any failure to comply will not be overlooked. Hermione will have a son or face the consequences for both of you. I will be sending a house elf to check in periodically._

 _Your Lord_

Draco and Hermione sat in silence, staring at the letter re-reading it over and over again. How long was this expected to take? What if it didn't happen fast enough? Then it hit him. Was he expected to be a father to the child or just to help create it? Was he ready to be a father? Draco didn't know the answer to any of these questions, but doing as the Dark Lord told him was the only way he was going to live through this.

"At least we're not alone," Hermione said quietly. Draco simply nodded. This arrangement kept getting worse for him, though he had to admit that Hermione wasn't necessarily bad company, even though he should think otherwise.

Starting out their first day trapped together, the two sat side by side on the sofa, each reading their separate books. Because neither of them was able to leave the room, they weren't able to get any new ones. Re-reading the same books over again seemed like a logical idea at first, but they soon realized that it would get very boring very fast.

Hermione put aside the book she was reading as a house elf appeared giving a plate of food to each of them.

"Thank you," Hermione said.

"Why do you always do that?" Draco asked her after the elf disapparated.

"Do what?" she questioned back, putting her first bite in her mouth.

"Thank the house elves. You do it each time they give you food. It is their job you know," he explained.

"Just because it's their job doesn't mean you can't show them a little appreciation. They have feelings too you know," she countered.

Draco kept having to remind himself that Hermione didn't grow up with house elves, she didn't understand.

"When the three of us were trying to destroy _him_ , we hid for a portion of time in this building-"

"At Grimmauld Place," he interrupted. "We had to keep watch on that place for weeks."

"Anyways, when we were there, we stayed with a house elf who was truly horrible to us for the longest time, until we figured out why. It turns out his first master was kind to him and the elf always wanted to follow orders from him. The next master he had treated him like he was garbage and so he went out of his way to be nasty. Once we learned this Harry gave him a possession of his loved master that we just happened to have and from that moment on, the elf was…different"

Draco had a house elf when he was little that he had grown quite fond of. He had always attributed it to being a child. Children get attached to things, but maybe there was something more. He had always been taught that the only thing that pleases a house elf is following the orders of its master. Had they been wrong? No, of course not. House elves were not people. He had heard about Hermione's little one-person club in school. S.P.E.W. was it? Ridiculous! She must have seen what she wanted to see, nothing else.

"You just don't understand. You weren't brought up with them," he told her.

She frowned in frustration. "Maybe you just don't want to see that any of the prejudiced beliefs you have been taught could possibly be wrong."

They couldn't though, could they? They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"What was it like growing up as a pureblood?" she asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Draco snapped.

"I was only curious," she muttered. "Must have been very different from my childhood."

"You bet it was." Hermione looked at him expectantly. He sighed. They had nothing else to do. "I had everything I ever wanted growing up. Anything I asked for I got, and if I didn't, I would throw a tantrum until I got it. The only thing I never received was any sign of love or affection." He smirked at the look on Hermione's face. "Purebloods are better than everybody else, can't be bothered to possibly look bad with the children, so I was pretty much raised by house elves. My parents could never show any affection because affection looked weak, and they couldn't have that. There were a lot of high expectations. Many, I could never hope to achieve. It didn't help much that some muggle-born was beating me in all my classes. Got some long lectures from that." Hermione blushed. "I grew up longing for the Dark Lord to return because of how highly my father spoke of him. He told me that the Dark Lord would bring a time when the muggles and muggle-borns would be in their proper place, serving the purebloods as slaves. That never really sat right with me, but I looked up to my father. Thought he had to be right. Then the Dark Lord actually came back. Everything I was brought up to believe in was the tradition. The tradition to hate muggle-borns, to be superior, to succeed in everything, to follow the family line into Slytherin, to follow the Dark Lord." He finally finished and looked at Hermione.

She was looking back at him with so much emotion in her eyes. Why had he told her all of that? He hadn't told that to anybody before. Once he had started, he just couldn't find the will to stop. How could Hermione convince him to spill his guts to her by barely saying anything? Draco decided it was her turn.

"What about you growing up as a muggle-born?" he inquired.

"My parents always loved me and did what they thought was best for me. Nobody knew I was a witch until later on. I grew up with muggle technology and such, but only what we could afford. I was entered into muggle primary school and made some friends there, but strange things started to happen around me that I couldn't explain. I knew I had done them somehow, but nobody would believe me. I felt like a freak. Then I got my letter from Hogwarts and everything began to make sense. My parents were very supportive of everything, always went shopping with me for my school supplies, saw me off on the train, they were really proud of me. It was hard at first, not knowing anything about the world I was living in except for the things I had read in books. Ron and Harry," she sighed. "became my best friends. They always looked out for me. Ron tried to help me understand some things better, but I didn't want to be explained things by somebody my own age. I was fine with teachers and such but I had always been one of the smartest in my classes. Harry had also grown up in the muggle world so it was nice that somebody was able to understand. They accepted me for who I was and didn't hate me for things I couldn't change." Her eyes were watery with unshed tears. Draco could tell she was trying hard not to let them fall.

They had come from completely different worlds. Both had their challenges, but Draco thought that hers actually sounded happier. Sure he had everything he could have ever dreamed of, but she had the love of family and friends.

They continued talking throughout the afternoon. Draco thought that they had gotten to know each other better in those couple of hours talking then they had in the weeks leading up to that point. Maybe he really could come to care for her. Then he thought better of it. No, of course he couldn't. He was a death eater. He couldn't care. He didn't deserve to be allowed to care about her.

"You can continue to sleep on the sofa until you are ready to sleep in the bed again," he told her. As long as the Dark Lord didn't find out. He didn't want to do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

"Thanks," she replied with a smile.

No, they could be friends. Maybe. Maybe he could let himself care for Hermione as a friend.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys! Thanks for reading! There is something about this chapter that I am not quite happy with, but I have no idea what. Oh, well, I decided to post it anyways. Thank you everybody who has reviewed. It makes my day when I see that you have actually taken the time to do so. Keep reviewing! It gets my writing going, and I have a bunch more chapters planned out!**


	9. You Can't Hide Forever

**Disclaimer: Everything from the Harry Potter World belongs to JK Rowling!**

 **A/N: For some reason, every couple of hours this chapter seems to disappear, not really sure why. Let me know if you notice anything that would make it get taken down. I have already emailed the support team so hopefully will get cleared up soon.**

Two weeks had passed since the wedding. Every day followed a similar pattern of re-reading books, talking, and eating. They had gotten to know each other better and better as the time passed.

Hermione found herself growing fond of Draco, caring for him even, but she knew that she meant nothing to him. On that first day she had seen him while at the manor, Hermione remembered him telling her that her entire personality disgusted him and it sent a strange tightening feeling to her gut every time she thought of it. How could that have possibly changed? Draco had also said that his whole purpose was to get her pregnant. That had hurt in a different way. She had thought something might have changed between them, that he may have been starting to care for her as well. Draco had made it very clear that he was only there because of his task, that his only purpose was the one given to him by Voldemort. But still, she shivered slightly when he said her name. Hermione tried to convince herself that he was only being nice to her to make this whole experience better for himself. Everything about her disgusted him.

Draco had also started having feelings for Hermione, though he hated himself for it, and would never tell her. He was a Death Eater. He didn't deserve her; she didn't deserve to have his burdens hanging over her. That was what happened to the wives of Death Eaters. They were forced into everything. They were expected to support their husbands in following the Dark Lord and even perform tasks for him themselves. He didn't want that for Hermione. He knew that he probably didn't have very much time left. After Voldemort had an heir, he wouldn't be of much use anymore. The Dark Lord was beginning to see that he wasn't cut out for this, that he would never enjoy inflicting pain, that he would never find his fun in killing muggles and muggle-borns. If anything, he would be a liability to the Dark Lord. He had tried to convince himself that if he simply succeeded in this task he would be spared, but he was having more doubts each day. Once he was killed, Hermione would be free, no longer the wife of a Death Eater. Draco thought that she would be happier without him. It just wasn't possible for her to share his feelings for her after everything he had done. She was married to a man she would never love. He remembered the look on her face when he had told her about torturing her friend. How could she ever forgive him for something like that?

Hermione was still sleeping on the sofa and they hadn't done anything since the wedding night. Each day, the two became more nervous about the check that was destined to come. Voldemort was sure to become suspicious of their obedience if he found out they weren't sleeping together.

It was after dinner when the dreaded check finally came. A small, wrinkly elf apparated into the bedroom and announced in a croaky voice, "You must tell Polky new things," he ordered.

"We just need some more time," Draco said smoothly.

The elf seemed to ignore him and moved to Hermione. He stretched a hand out towards her, and nothing happened. "Master will not be pleased," he croaked. It must have been some sort of test to see if Hermione was pregnant. Again, the small elf reached out his hand and again, nothing happened. "Master says you must explain why yous have not tried at the task. Master tells Polky any disobedience comes to him."

Hermione froze, fear gripping her. If Voldemort found out that Draco had not wanted to make her do anything she wasn't comfortable with and that was the reason they hadn't done anything since the wedding night, he would be killed.

"I will not let him sleep with me because I am not yet ready," she said with much more confidence than she felt. Draco's eyes widened. He obviously hadn't expected her to protect him.

"You come," the house elf commanded. It was strange to be ordered by a house elf, but Hermione followed willingly as she was led from the room.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked in a panicked voice.

Hermione didn't answer. She couldn't. She didn't trust her voice at the moment. Hermione couldn't control the fear that raced through her. She was being brought before Voldemort for disobedience and had no idea what would happen to her. Voldemort still needed her so surely she wouldn't be killed, but that didn't mean what would happen to her now would be any more pleasant.

Soon, she was once again in the presence of Voldemort himself, more scared than ever before. She had disobeyed him and now stood at his mercy. The house elf moved to him and reported what he had been told.

"I am much displeased," he hissed. "You have not complied with my orders, you have resisted my plans. For this, you shall be punished. You _will_ have a son to be my heir. I will not have _anybody_ disobey me, especially my own daughter. You will not disappoint me again I assume."

Hermione shook her head vigorously. Then she noticed they were not alone. Another Death Eater stood among them. She didn't know who he was, but he glared at her with a slight smirk on his face. He was a large and intimidating man, and that together with Voldemort's words made her blood run cold.

She quaked with fear when Voldemort raised his wand to her.

" _Crucio!_ "

Draco paced back and forth across the room. The palm of his hand throbbed in pain. After Hermione had left, he had raced after her, before remembering about the wards that kept him from leaving. He didn't heal his hand this time, though. The pain felt good. It was what he deserved.

Why had she done that? Why would she give herself up like that? Why wouldn't she at least tell the truth? Worry flooded through him. He may have tried everything in his power to keep himself from caring for her, but it had been no use. As much as he had hurt her in the past, he did not want to see her hurt now. What would the Dark Lord do to her? Surely he wouldn't kill her, right? Draco was having his doubts. Sometimes, if the Dark Lord got too angry, he would kill the person even without meaning to. He had seen it happen. That couldn't happen, right? She was his daughter and he still needed her. Draco still couldn't shake the feeling that something very bad was happening to her.

This was completely his fault. He had known at least this about the Dark Lord's wishes and _he_ was the one who had disobeyed him and let her sleep on the sofa. He shouldn't have offered. Now Hermione was probably being tortured for his mistake. He slumped down into an armchair and fisted his hair, making his palm sting. How could he have done this? He should have known that she was too good, that she would protect him like that, even if she didn't care for him. It was in her nature. She was too pure for her own safety.

Nothing could have made Draco hate himself more. He practically handed her over himself! He should have done more to help her, to protect her. He should have done something other than just stand there!

He couldn't change it now. He tried to convince himself that he didn't care. It was too hard to care, it hurt too much. No, he didn't care that Hermione was probably in agony right now. She was just the annoying, know-it-all, Gryffindor from school. He could care less what happened to her. He couldn't convince himself though. He knew she was different, he knew how shallow he had been, how he hadn't even looked at her below the surface of what she portrayed. She was no longer just the girl in the hallways that he bullied. She _was_ somebody he cared about, no matter how crazy that sounded.

He looked down at his burned hand. He hadn't acted quickly enough. He had stood there, in shock, until it was too late. He should have stopped her from leaving with the elf. He knew that would have brought the Dark Lord upon him too, but he didn't care. Why didn't he care? There hadn't been anything else in his life that he would risk himself for. He was too selfish for that. Somehow, Hermione was different.

Maybe this would end up to be a good thing for her. How could she ever forgive him for this? She would hate him again, and it would be better for both of them.

Hermione seemed to have been gone for so long. Had it been hours? The sun was long gone. Draco tried to recall what time she left, but all he could remember was her words and her face. She had protected him, but in her eyes, he could see fear. She had been so frightened, and she had good reason to be. She had protected him and he hadn't returned the favor.

Draco's head snapped up as he heard the door open and Hermione was roughly tossed back into the room before the door was shut again. She wasn't moving. He rushed to her side to see how badly she was hurt. Hermione was awake, her eyes were open, but her breathing sounded tight and shallow. A wound on her head was bleeding profusely and her arm was bent at an awkward angle, seeming to be broken.

Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms, ignoring the stab of pain in his own hand and carried her over to the bed. Hermione groaned in pain at the movement.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I have to see what injuries you have," Draco explained as he lifted her shirt. Bruises had already formed across her chest, stomach, and back, covering her skin in splotches of purplish blue. She also probably had a couple of broken ribs, but hopefully not too much internal damage.

Draco got to work right away. He healed her the best he could without any potions or other supplies, but she was obviously still in a lot of pain. He didn't know what to do, how he could comfort her.

"Draco," she whispered.

"I'm right here," he replied.

"Can you hold me?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, of course." Draco got onto the bed as carefully as he could and pulled her into his arms, her body against his. He didn't know why she would want him to hold her, she should be furious with him, she shouldn't want to be near him, but he was thankful that she had told him a way in which he could comfort her.

"What did he do to you?" he asked hesitantly. Did he really want to know?

"H-he used the cruciatus curse until I-I couldn't even scream anymore." Her voice was hoarse and Draco could feel her body twitching in the after effects of the curse. Tears rolled down her face. Draco saw red; he didn't think he had ever hated Voldemort as much as he did at that moment. "Then he had one of the Death Eaters beat me," she finished. Blood rushed to his head and he could hear a pounding in his ears. Not only had he used the cruciatus curse on her, but he had her beaten as well.

"Why didn't you tell the truth?" Draco asked. It should have been him being tortured, not Hermione. She didn't deserve that.

"He would have killed you," she explained, still in tears. "He only hurt me."

Draco knew she was right. He would have been dead if she had told the truth. She really did care if he lived or died. She volunteered for all this pain in order to save him. A strange feeling erupted inside of Draco's chest. Could she actually care about him? No, of course not. She was too good, too pure to let him be killed when she could stop it. Having Hermione in his arms felt like heaven; a heaven that he didn't deserve.

Hermione looked up at him. She had stopped crying, but tears still streaked her face. Draco wiped them away with his thumb. Hermione winced as she raised a hand to his face. Draco stopped breathing as she gently traced the outline of his jaw with her fingers. It was almost like some magnetic force was pulling them together. All of his doubts suddenly felt very distant as the space closed between them. The first brush of Hermione's lips against his was light and tender but sparked a warmth deep inside him. Draco pulled her closer to him, pressing their lips together with more emotion than he thought he was able to give. Hermione's hand now found the back of his neck, sliding up into his hair sending a shiver down his spine. Her lips were soft, warm and Draco could taste the salt from the tears she had so recently shed.

Draco pulled away slowly, breaking the contact. Looking into her eyes, he saw a longing there that he couldn't quite understand the meaning of. He was dark, evil, vile. How could she, innocent, pure, good, long for anything he could offer? He turned away, not allowing Hermione to see how much the kiss had affected him. He didn't want her to know that he cared. He ruined everything he touched, everything he cared for. He would ruin her.

"You need to rest," he told her, starting to loosen his grip.

Draco wanted to leave so she couldn't see how much she meant to him, so she couldn't see how the state she was in bothered him. She held onto him as tightly as her fatigued muscles and injured nerves would allow. Draco sighed and held her firm again. She seemed to relax a little, knowing that he wasn't about to leave her on her own tonight.

Soon, her fatigue took over her body and Hermione fell asleep, leaving Draco alert, confused, and conflicted.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Well, there's another chapter. Tell me what you think! Again, I want to thank all my reviewers. I love you guys, you are awesome and make me want to write amazing stuff for you!**


	10. A Little Thing Called Life

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters and world belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.**

Hermione woke up in Draco's large and comfortable bed again. Her head spun with thoughts of the last couple of days since that horrible night with Voldemort. She smiled. Things had definitely changed.

It had been four days ago when Hermione had woken in Draco's arms, her entire body aching. She had been surprised that he hadn't left her during the night, but she was grateful not to wake up alone. She didn't know why he had stayed. Maybe it was simply because she was in pain and he didn't want to wake her up once she was asleep. Or had it been something more? That day Draco had made her stay in the bed and try to recover from the events the night before. He had brought her the food the house elves left on the small table for her, he had checked her over for further injuries, he had been nice.

The next day, she was feeling much better. Her body still ached somewhat, but she was able to get up and do some more re-reading. That day was when things began to shift.

 _Hermione sat on the sofa with a book on her lap. She had read the book eight times already, but she had read the others that many times as well and it gave her something to do. She was still shocked about what had happened the other night, mostly, Draco's actions. He had healed her, cared for her, held her. She didn't know what to think about it._

 _Draco sighed beside her and closed the book he was re-reading. "I need to tell you something," he told her._

 _"Okay? What is it?" Hermione replied._

 _"It's something I should have told you a long time ago but it slipped my mind until now. I don't blame you if you can't forgive me."_

 _She stopped breathing. What was was going on?_

 _Draco continued. "The day before our wedding, I learned that Fleur had been killed."_

 _"What do you mean?" Hermione asked slowly, not grasping what was going on._

 _"One of the Death Eaters got too carried away and she was accidentally killed."_

 _Tears built up in her eyes. Fleur was dead. She wondered if Bill was still alive. He would be absolutely devastated. Fleur had been dead for almost three weeks while she had been warm, comfortable, talking and laughing. How could she have done that? Then it hit her. Draco had known about this for that entire time. Her tears turned to anger. How dare he claim that her death simply slips his mind!_

 _"How could you have known about this and not told me!" she demanded._

 _"It was the day before the wedding and I knew how nervous you were, I didn't want to add anything else to the burden," he tried to explain._

 _"That doesn't explain why you haven't told me until now, almost three weeks later! How could you!" she shouted._

 _"I forgot," he replied._

 _"You just forgot? How do you forget about something like that? She was my friend! And what about Ginny! Is she alive?"_

 _"Yes, as far as I know, Ginny is still alive. But that was three weeks ago," he said._

 _Then the tears came full force. She had one night of torture in over a month and Ginny had spent that time in constant pain. And Fleur, at least she wasn't in pain anymore._

 _"Hermione," Draco spoke softly._

 _"No! Stay away from me!" Since they were trapped in the same room it would be difficult to get away, find her own space. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door, sliding down to the floor in sobs._

 _Hermione had stayed, sobbing on the bathroom floor for what seemed like hours before she could cry no longer. It felt good to cry, really cry. Hermione found it cleared her mind. She thought about Draco. He probably hadn't even known Fleur, had only seen her the few times when she had been at the school for the tournament. Could he have really just forgotten? People must die around the manor all the time. Could he have gotten so used to it that he just forgot to tell her? Then she realized the tone in his voice when he told her. It was calm, practiced. Why would he be like that? It struck her, could he have wanted this to happen? Could the kiss they had shared that night have something to do with this? She recalled Draco turning away from her after. She had thought maybe he still hated her, was disgusted by her, and maybe he was. Did he find out she had feelings for him and want to squash them? She remembered his words, "I don't blame you if you can't forgive me". That actually seemed very plausible. Slowly, she left the bathroom._

 _Draco was still sitting in the same place on the sofa._

 _"I forgive you," she told him plainly._

 _Draco looked up at her with eyes full of pain. "Why? How? I don't understand. I am nothing but a Death Eater. Evil."_

 _"I forgive you," she told him again._

 _He draped his head in his hands, confirming her belief. He had wanted to push her away. Was it because he was still disgusted by her? Or was it out of self-loathing?_

 _"You shouldn't. You should want to stay as far away from me as you can. Don't forgive me for anything," he insisted._

 _She sat down beside him. "What if I forgive you for all of it?"_

 _He looked back at her. "Don't," he said, shaking his head. "What happened to you the other night was my fault. I knew that he wanted us in the same bed, attempting his task, and I told you to sleep on the sofa. I could have stopped you from going to him, but I froze. These things are going to keep happening, I'm going to keep hurting you!"_

 _"Don't do this to yourself! It was not your fault! I chose to do it. I chose to go to him. I chose to protect you. This situation is not your fault."_

 _"No matter what you say or think, it doesn't change the fact that I am not good enough for you."_

 _"I don't still disgust you?" Hermione asked quietly._

 _"Why would you think that?"_

 _"You said on that first night that everything about me disgusted you, not just my blood," she explained._

 _"You girls and your memories for this stuff. I realize that I was really shallow back then. All I knew about you was who you were on the outside. I was wrong." Some sort of weight was lifted off her chest as he said this. "But that still doesn't change the fact that you are too good for me. I am evil, I've tortured people Hermione! I not a good person. You should want to run from me. Save yourself, not me."_

 _If only to get him to stop talking, she kissed him. His arms came around her and held on as if he never wanted to let her go. How could she forgive him? Because he wasn't who the world saw him to be, he wasn't even who he saw himself as. He had been blinded by what he had been forced to do, forced to become._

Now, Hermione lay awake and once again naked under the covers. These past couple of nights, Draco had left a blanket beside her so she could cover herself in the morning. Her smile faded. Something wasn't right. Suddenly, she was feeling very nauseous. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself as she ran to the toilet. As soon as she got there she was vomiting.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Draco asked from outside the door. He had probably heard her retching.

Trembling, she flushed and went to the door. She had an idea of what was happening, but she had to be sure.

"Draco, can you perform the charm? The one that detects pregnancy?" she asked him.

His eyes widened and he got out his wand, nodding. He waved his wand across her and muttered the incantation. It took a few seconds for Hermione to start feeling a tingle deep inside her and a soft golden glow began to emanate from her center. They looked at each other with stunned expressions. They were going to have a child.

Draco was stunned. He knew this was coming, but he hadn't quite expected it to be this soon. Snapping out of his daze, he realized Hermione was still standing in a blanket. Quickly he got her some robes and sent her to change. Draco then collapsed onto the sofa.

It was confirmed that he would be having a child. His child was growing inside of Hermione. This both amazed him as well as terrified him. Draco didn't think he could ever be a good father. He never had a decent one himself so how was he supposed to be any different? He didn't want his child to grow up the way he had; learning to hate, to never show weakness, to never be allowed to fail. He wanted his child to know love and happiness. He knew Hermione could give that but could he?

Was he expected to stay and be a father to this child? It was his blood, and even though he was terrified of the prospect of being a father, he didn't want his child to grow up without one. At least Hermione was safe now that she was pregnant. His future, on the other hand, became more uncertain. His job could be finished. That meant he would likely be facing his death soon.

He heard Hermione come out of the bathroom and felt her sit down on the sofa beside him.

"I was thinking about something," she said quietly.

"And what was that?" he asked.

Hermione took a deep breath before continuing. "He always talks about me, having a son, it seems that he wants a boy to train to become his heir."

Draco nodded. "Makes sense."

"What happens if I don't have a son? What happens if I have a daughter?"

They sat in silence both thinking through what would happen.

"We have a few weeks until the gender can be known right?" Draco asked.

"Yes."

"So we should wait to worry about these things."

"Would he kill her, if I had a little girl?" Hermione asked quietly.

"I don't know. Probably," he answered truthfully. This shook him. Would he just stand there and let the Dark Lord kill his daughter? Would he be forced to do it? Those thoughts horrified him. He honestly didn't know what he would do. Would he be able to stand up to the Dark Lord? Would he already be dead and unable to do anything? He shook the thoughts from his head. He had a few weeks until it came to that problem.

"I think we should expect a house elf to come check in on us any time now," Hermione told him. He just nodded. "If you get let out of here, what will happen to you?"

"I don't know."

"Will you be forced to leave? Will you have to leave our child?" she asked.

"It's very probable that the Dark Lord wouldn't want me around anymore," he replied solemnly.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I think he has been noticing my lack of enjoyment in many of the Death Eater's activities and after this task is finished, I am nothing but a liability," he told her.

"Is he going to kill you?"

"I have accepted it a long time ago that he probably will."

"Draco," she whispered and took his hand in hers. He shook it off.

"No. This will be better for you. Don't you see? If I die, you are no longer bound to me, no longer a Death Eater's wife!"

"Is that what you've convinced yourself? That I would be better off without you? Are you not even going to fight? What about our child?"

"It isn't really even ours, it's the Dark Lord's child!" he yelled. He instantly regretted saying those words to her. Hermione looked completely shocked and hurt. She went quiet and placed a hand over her belly.

"Draco," she said his name this time with so much pain in her voice, and he hated that he was the one who put it there. "How can you say that?"

Guilt cut its way through his body. He couldn't even believe he had said it. Silence followed. He didn't know why he had told her that. It just proved the point he made a couple days earlier; he wasn't good enough for her. He was just going to keep hurting her. Why couldn't she have just taken the cruel bait. He had told her about her friend's death that way for a reason. He had wanted her to hate him, to never forgive him. Then she had gone and done just that. As much as it hurt him to consider, it would be better if she didn't forgive him this time. It would be less painful for her later.

A pop finally broke the silence and the same dreaded house elf as last time stood in front of them. This time, he didn't speak to them. He simply stretched out his hand to Hermione's belly again. A light golden glow began to emit again from her center before disappearing. Immediately, the elf disapparated.

The two looked at each other. The Dark Lord would soon know of the pregnancy. No matter what he had said to Hermione, the child was definitely theirs and he worried about what would happen to them too, but Voldemort would still take the child if it was a boy. Who knew if he would even need Hermione anymore? He could get the house elves to mostly raise the boy. If it was a girl, who knew if either of them would live.

By dinner time, Hermione was still not over what Draco had told her. Was he right? Was the child practically Voldemort's? Would he take their child away and give them to somebody else to raise, and train them to become the next Dark Lord? The thought chilled her.

With the dinner meal, came something else unexpected. Another letter was delivered.

 _Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,_

 _I hear good news and I am pleased. Once the gender of the child is discovered, Hermione will once again be brought before me. Until that time, young Malfoy must stay where he is._

 _Your Lord_

They looked at each other. They had known he would probably want to know the gender, but being brought into his presence at the time confirmed their suspicious of what would happen if they didn't have a boy.

Hermione could tell that Draco was affected greatly by the letter. He was shaking. The letter extended his life for the few weeks they had until they could know the gender. She took his hand. Draco seemed surprised by this action; as if he thought she wouldn't care that he lived. Did he think that because she was still hurt by his comment earlier that meant she wanted him to die, that she wasn't relieved to know he had a few extra weeks? She squeezed his hand a little to let him know he was wrong.

She had seen a part of him that he didn't give himself credit for. They were both scared and needed each other to get through it. Draco might not see that he deserved to have anything but fear and darkness, but for some reason, Hermione did.

 **Author's Note:**

 **So it seems that chapter 9 is staying up now…hopefully…hopefully this chapter stays up too. Thanks Tala for the advice about the disappearing chapter! A Thank-you to everyone else who reviewed, you are awesome! Keep them coming! I am leaving on a week long family vacation tomorrow so I may not be able to post another chapter until then. I will update as soon as I can!**


	11. The Things You Do for Those You Love

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and not to me…**

As the weeks went by, Hermione got more and more nervous. She was going to have a child, but no matter what the gender, they would be doomed to a dark future. If she had a son, he would probably be taken from her and raised to become the next Dark Lord. If she had a daughter, she could be killed. This was not what she wanted for her son or daughter. Soon, she would be able to find out the dark destiny for the child and have to find a way to deal with it.

Draco had tried to calm her down, but nothing would help. He told her not to worry until she had something to worry about. Didn't he understand that she wasn't just worried about their child being a girl and being killed but also having a boy and having him forcefully taken from her to live a life she would never want for him? Added to the stress of the child, Hermione also worried about Draco's future. He was the father of the child she now carried and he thought he was going to be killed once his part in the task was finished. Hermione didn't understand why he wasn't more worried about everything.

Hermione sat in her usual place on the sofa, bundled up in a blanket and staring blankly at a book she had read too many times to count. Nothing could take her mind off the worries that plagued her. She was constantly thinking of the possibilities about their child. Was there any way to escape the inevitable?

The worst part of this whole situation was not being able to do anything about it. It was driving her mad!

"Have you ever tried occlumency?" Draco asked suddenly.

"What? No, I haven't had a chance to learn. Snape was teaching Harry for a little while so I know a bit about it, but never actually got trained myself," Hermione replied. It was getting easier to talk about Harry without tearing up. She still missed him terribly, but she wanted to be able to remember their friendship.

"That's something we can do that will actually be of use. I can teach you. That way, if it is a girl, we have at least some possibility of saving her life," he explained.

"That's a good idea. You know occlumency?"

"And legilimency. You need both in order to teach someone else. I learned in the sixth year once I received… the task." Both of them knew the task he was referring to; to kill Dumbledore.

"We should get started right away!" Hermione said with a little too much enthusiasm. She looked outside to try to tell the time. The sun was high in the sky, it was afternoon, but early. They had plenty of time to begin immediately.

Draco chuckled at her excitement. "You should be prepared that you will not succeed on your first attempt, you may not succeed for a couple of days. It is quite a difficult skill to learn, especially at a time like this when your mind is so active. Also, each time you fail to block me out, I will be able to see some of your memories," he told her.

Hermione took a deep breath. She had heard about this from Harry, though she hadn't realized how difficult the task actually was.

"I understand. We should start now! Any time now we can perform the charm and find out the gender! How would this help?"

"Not only would you be able to block him from using legilimency on you but you would be able to choose what he is able to see. You may be able to trick him into believing what you want him to believe."

"Would he fall for something like that?" Hermione asked.

"He is much too confident in his own abilities to even think of somebody being able to pull a trick like that. It has worked for people before. But with the Dark Lord, you can't just block him out. He will see that and be angry. You have to show him something that he would be satisfied with as being true."

"Oh, okay. Is that complicated?"

"More so than just blocking, yes." Draco paused. "First thing to learn is the blocking part. Clear your mind of any thoughts. Picture an empty field, a wall, or just an empty white space. Focus hard on just that." He got up from his place beside her on the sofa and dragged the armchair closer so he was sitting across from her.

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on a large field stretching as far as the eye could see with green grass and the occasional little yellow dandelion.

"Are you ready?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded. She wasn't really sure what to expect. She had to admit that it was a little intimidating having Draco's wand pointed at her like that, considering all the things he had done. Hermione reminded herself that she trusted him. He had healed and held her that terrible night and was the father of the child she carried.

"Legilimens," he said quietly.

There was a strange pushing sensation as Draco attempted to break into her mind. She tried to stay focused on the field, but she couldn't stop the memories from flashing through her mind. Images of Hogwarts, of Harry and Ron, of sneaking through the corridors after dark, of Malfoy calling her a Mudblood. Hermione knew she was supposed to try to push him out, but part of her didn't want to. Part of her wanted to stay in the memories of her and her friends, when they were all alive, together, and happy. When the memory with Draco came up, that was when he pulled out.

Hermione noticed her eyes were wet with tears. She must have been crying. Quickly, she wiped them away. Hermione scolded herself. She was supposed to be learning occlumency, not showing Draco all her private memories. She needed to do this for their unborn child.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked.

"Yes. I guess I didn't expect it to affect me like that," she replied. Draco looked a little shocked himself. She guessed that seeing things you'd done in a different perspective would be a bit shocking.

"We need to try again," she told him. Hermione was determined to do this. She needed to be able to do something to try to save her child.

"Are you sure? We could take a little break and then try again. It is quite energy draining at first."

"I'm sure. Let's try again now." She wasn't really tired as she hadn't truly even tried to block him out. It felt too good to see her friends again, even if it was just inside the memory. This time, she wouldn't let him in.

Draco pointed his wand at her again. "Legilimens."

This time, Hermione pictured a large wall. She cleared her mind of all other thoughts and tried hard to keep the wall up as she felt the push of Draco entering again. She focused all her energy on keeping Draco out of her head, but this time, she felt her energy draining. Hermione could hold it no longer and the wall came crashing down. She felt Draco push inside, and again, flashes of treasured memories, along with some less pleasant passed before her. It was a very intimate feeling having somebody enter her mind, yet at the same time, powerful, demanding, intimidating. It made Hermione feel small and weak, fighting for control in her own body. With all energy remaining, she tried to put the wall back up. She had to do this. For their child, for herself. She wasn't one to give up, or fail.

Something happened, but it felt so far away. It was a falling feeling, she may have hit something. Instantly, Draco pulled out of her mind and she found herself on the floor, sweating and exhausted.

"Hermione," Draco was suddenly beside her, helping her back onto the sofa.

"I'm alright," she said tiredly.

"I think we should leave it for today. You can try again tomorrow," he told her. "You did much better that time," he added, seeing her discouraged face.

"What if I can't learn in time? What if I can only learn part? It won't do any good," she spoke shakily. Doubts flooded her mind. She had always been the quickest to learn things, always the most successful. What if now, in the most important time, she failed?

Draco sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. Hermione knew he was only doing this for her and was probably quite uncomfortable himself, but she melted into his arms.

"You can do this. If anyone could do it, it's you. No, we don't have much time, but you have always been ahead in anything learning. Occlumency is an extremely difficult skill so it might take a few tries. We'll try again tomorrow," Draco whispered.

Hermione pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes. "Okay," she replied.

Teaching Hermione occlumency had been a good idea. It gave her something to pour her worry into and gave them both something more to do. Draco worried as well, but he had to keep up a strong face. He would show her his worry when he knew for sure there was something to worry about.

The first time he had entered her mind, there was no resistance at all. He felt guilty, like he had invaded the privacy of her memories as he had seen her with her friends, happy, going on adventures together. It was strange to feel what she had felt in those moments. He had never had a real friend, so he hadn't known what that felt like. Then he saw himself come and ruin everything. He hadn't known how much the word Mudblood had hurt her. It was just a word. Seeing that from Hermione's perspective made Draco hate himself even more. He couldn't keep watching so he had pulled out.

The next time, it was a bit harder to penetrate into her head. It was different. He could still see memories, but he could also feel her current worry, determination, her heart. It all screamed at him that she was strong, stronger than him. She cared about others so much that she would put her own life on the line. At that point in the session, her energy had already been drained and he could feel it. In that moment, she found something deep inside herself to channel the last bit she had left into pushing him out. So much, in fact, she collapsed. He had to stop immediately or she would have kept trying. It had taken a few moments for her to recover enough to focus back on reality. Draco had to admit that it scared him how determined she was, and how much energy she had been able to harness from practically nothing. He could tell that she was powerful; powerful beyond her own understanding.

The next day, they tried again. It became more and more discouraging to Hermione every time she let him in, and it continued to be exhausting to try to push him back out. Draco told her that she was making progress, but she didn't see it. She would not be making progress until he was no longer able to get in. If she couldn't even block Draco out, how was she supposed to block out Voldemort?

They spent most of their time focusing on this task. Although it was draining, Hermione insisted on continuing. She had to learn this, even if she was too tired to stand on her own.

As days passed, it became easier and less tiring to push Draco back out of her mind. Hermione would still get frustrated when she couldn't prevent him from entering, though, in turn, making the whole process more difficult. Draco kept reminding her that she needed to control her emotions, clear her mind, or she wouldn't get anywhere. This seemed to frustrate her even more. Now she knew what Harry had been complaining about.

"Can you perform the gender charm?" Hermione asked quietly while they were taking a break. "I need to know and I think it is time."

"Okay," Draco replied stiffly. He held out his wand before her and froze. Was he as worried about this as she was?

She took a deep breath. "Please? We have to know how to go about this, how long we have until the baby is in danger."

There was silence as Draco held his wand up to her belly again, his knuckles white from his tight grip. He seemed to be gathering his courage to do the spell. Hermione looked into his eyes, seeing the uncertainty held there. She nodded and tried to give him a small smile of reassurance. They needed to know.

Hermione was afraid too. Her body was shaking and her stomach felt as though a thousand tiny butterflies had decided to attempt an escape. This was the moment that could change her life. She would do anything for her child and whether it was a girl or a boy lead her down a different, uncertain path.

Finally, Draco waved his wand and muttered the incantation. Once more, a glow emanated from her, this time white. It took a couple seconds for it to change. A faint blue would mean the child was a boy and a faint pink would mean a girl. Slowly, the colour shifted.

Tears sprung into Hermione's eyes and her hand flew to cover her mouth. What were they going to do? The baby was a girl. Distantly, she heard the wand drop to the floor and Draco's arms came around her.

"We'll figure something out," he whispered.

Hermione dug her face into Draco's robes and cried. What was Voldemort going to do when he found out? Was he going to kill their child? She didn't know what she could do, how she could protect her daughter.

"Is he going to kill her?" she asked between sobs.

Draco lifted her chin so she could see his eyes when he spoke. "I am not going to let anything happen to you or her." He placed his hand on her belly for the first time. The significance of this act from Draco was not lost on her. She wiped her eyes and sat back on the sofa.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"You continue to learn occlumency and we try to hold the Dark Lord off for a few days. He doesn't know the exact day when this was to happen," he told her.

"But we can't trick him forever, he will find out eventually, and it will be even worse when he realizes we have been tricking him," Hermione reminded.

"Yes, but it gives us time."

"Time for what?"

"Escape." Was he talking about her escaping, or was he planning on leaving as well? Was any of that even relevant?

"Is escape even possible?" she asked.

"I don't know. But it's the only way."

Hermione thought for a moment. She had escaped from the manor before. How had they done it? Dobby. The little house elf was able to apparate to and from the manor, no matter the magical barriers. The house elves had different magic than wizards. But all the house elves were obedient to Voldemort and the heads of house, weren't they?

"Are there any house elves that are still obedient to you?"

"What are you thinking of?" he inquired.

"Elf magic is different than ours and Voldemort doesn't see that a house elf could be powerful as well. If there is a house elf that still calls you master, they can apparate us out. Why didn't I think of this before?" she explained.

"That's brilliant! But where can we go? The Dark Lord has people everywhere. Anywhere we go we don't stand a chance." Hermione got the feeling that he was talking more to himself than to her. She couldn't stop the warm, glowing feeling from rising inside of her. He had said 'we'. He was planning on escaping with her. "The Malfoys have a cottage that hasn't been used in years. I doubt the Dark Lord even knows about it. We can go there," he told her.

"When can we go?"

"It would be best if we can both block him out. I think we should wait until you are sufficient at occlumency. If we're caught, it would be disastrous if he found out we are having a daughter." Again, her heart sped up a little as he said 'we'. They were going to do this together.

Draco couldn't believe what had happened that day. He had found out he was going to have a daughter. Knowing this made everything seem more real, made him want to fight. Things between him and Hermione were still confusing to him, but he had to protect his daughter. If he were to be killed, he wouldn't be able to protect them. If the Dark Lord found out the gender of the child, his daughter could be killed before she is even born. Escape was their only option.

Escape. What was he thinking? He lay in bed, Hermione laying beside him. Sleep was not an easy thing to achieve, as his mind kept wandering to the decisions he had made, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Why had he thought escape would be a good idea? Maybe he hadn't even thought it possible himself, just wishful thinking. Now that Hermione had actually come up with a plan of action, doubts kept slapping him in the face. He would be leaving behind his entire life, everything he had ever known, and he would never be able to come back. He would be a hunted man, hunted by both sides, though he wasn't sure if any from Hermione's side still lived. His parents would suffer because of this choice. Once it was discovered that he had escaped with Hermione, his parents would be tortured and killed. It wasn't that he had ever had a good relationship with them, but they were still his parents. Was he ready to give everything up to save his daughter? The answer was apparently, yes. He may not know exactly what was between himself and Hermione, but he did know that he cared for her, and she was carrying his child. He could not abandon them, could not let them be hurt or killed.

Hermione was brilliant. Her plan might actually work. He had almost forgotten about his old house elf. She had become his when he had come of age. Minky had practically raised him instead of his parents. Draco wondered what had become of her. If he called her, would she come to him? Would she get them out of this prison?

Was he ready to go? Escaping meant he was leaving this life, becoming a father. Was he ready for that? Draco had never truly wanted to be in the Dark Lord's service in the first place. Not being forced to torture and murder for a madman was not a loss in the least, but could he be a father? He was ready to condemn his own father to death, and he couldn't help wondering if his daughter would one day make a similar choice as easily as he had. Would she hate him? Would he treat her as badly as his father treated him? Draco had to believe that he wouldn't have the terrible relationship with his child that he had with his father.

Looking at Hermione sleep so peacefully beside him, he knew that he really didn't have a choice in the matter. He had to save them.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys! Sorry you had to wait so long for another chapter. The family vacation was great, spent some time relaxing by the water in a small town on Vancouver Island. Apparently, Justin Trudeau, the Prime Minister of Canada, was in the same small town when we were there and we just missed him! WHAT?! Too bad, that would have been cool. Anyways, here is the next chapter that you have all been waiting for. Review and tell me what you think! Make my day with your wonderful opinions! Thanks for reading!**


	12. In the Midst of Chaos

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling created all these wonderful characters.**

For the past couple of days, Hermione had worked tirelessly on learning occlumency. She had not yet been able to block Draco from entering her mind, but it was getting much easier to push him back out. She knew they were quickly running out of time and began to get even more frustrated with herself. Each time her frustration would overcome her ability to perform, Draco would force her to take a break to refocus her mind. It did help somewhat but Hermione just wanted to learn as quickly as possible.

Now, they sat across from each other, Draco's wand raised towards her, ready to attempt penetration again. Hermione cleared her mind, took a deep breath and mentally decided to not let her emotions take control of her. In her mind's eye, she pictured the wall, that seemed to be the easiest for her, and solely concentrated on that.

When she felt the pushing sensation of Draco against her mind, she saw the thickness of the wall increase. The pressure grew until it was almost too much, but then it started to lessen. Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco smiling at her.

"I did it?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yup," he nodded.

Relief and happiness flooded through her. She wasn't a failure after all.

"Let's take a break and then we can start the other part," Draco told her.

"No, let's start now," Hermione insisted.

"Remember what I told you before about this being even more complicated? You need a little bit of rest."

"Alright, fine. I guess it is about lunch time anyways. But we'll make it short," she reluctantly agreed.

Soon, a house elf arrived, bringing them food for lunch. This actually gave Hermione the opportunity she wanted to talk about the escape.

"So, you never exactly told me how this escape thing would work," she started.

"There is this house elf, named Minky. She practically raised me. I don't know what happened to her, but if she is still around, she would still answer to me. I think it would be better to wait until you can alter what you show the Dark Lord before we attempt to call her. There could be protection against that now, I don't know. But we can't take that risk," Draco explained.

"But what happens if he realizes that we should know by now and calls on us?"

Draco hesitated. "Then we could have a problem. We just have to hope that he has more to worry about than finding out the gender of this child and that we have some more time." More silence followed while they ate their food.

"I want to save Ginny," Hermione said quietly.

Draco put his fork down. "I don't even know if getting us out is going to work. I don't know if it's possible to rescue her as well. As soon as our escape is known, there will be a ton of extra security and every eye looking for us."

"But we can't just leave her here!" Hermione argued.

"We don't even know if she is still alive," he told her sternly.

"I can't leave without at least trying," she replied, her eyes growing wet from tears she was determined not to let fall.

Draco sighed. "If we actually end up escaping, then I can see about trying to help Ginny. Once we are safe I can try to send Minky back to get her. But don't get your hopes up. We don't know what has happened to her."

Hermione forced a smile at him. "Thanks," she said.

Soon, their break was over, and Draco went back to sit across from her.

"This time, you have to let me it," he told her. "But focus only on a single memory. Do not let me see anything else but that."

"Okay."

Just as Draco raised his wand again, a pop sounded in the room. The house elf that had checked in in the past stood before them once again.

"Yous must come with Polky to master now," the little elf croaked.

"Like hell we will," Draco told him.

"Master will be most displeased," Polky said, looking frightened. If they didn't go with him, would the elf be punished? Would Voldemort come to see them himself, and be even angrier with them? Could she block Voldemort out? Would that do anything? With every second, Hermione's fear grew more and more intense.

"Draco," she whispered. "I think it may be in our best interest to go."

"Are you insane? You aren't ready to face him yet," Draco sounded calm but Hermione could see the panic flooding up in his eyes.

"He'll be even angrier," she said.

"He'll be angry no matter what we do," he replied.

Hermione bit her lip nervously. How were they supposed to get out of this situation? What could they do? Either way, they would have to face him eventually.

"Draco. You and I both know that facing him is inevitable now."

His face hardened even more, but the fear was still present behind the mask. He nodded slowly, seeming to be thinking of what to do. He took her hand in his and began to follow the now relieved looking house elf out into the hallway.

It seemed to get darker as they travelled down through the manor to a cold, grey, stone room where the Dark Lord awaited them. Hermione glanced over at Draco who gave her hand a tight squeeze to try to comfort her where his face showed nothing. She knew that nothing good could come of this meeting. What were they supposed to say? Were they supposed to lie?

"Tell me of your discovery of the gender of the child," the Dark Lord demanded.

"My Lord, the child is a boy. We will be having a son," Draco told him. Wow. Flat out lying to Voldemort himself. This really wasn't going to end well. Hoping that he wouldn't check their minds for confirmation was too much to ask. All Voldemort needed to do was flick his wand slightly, and Hermione knew that he was searching through Draco's memories. Would he be able to block out all the memories of their daughter, all the time they had spent on occlumency, all the worry, their plan to escape? Was Draco strong enough? Hermione prayed he was, and that the Dark Lord would be satisfied by what he found and wouldn't attempt to enter hers. She didn't know what to do if he did. Should she try to block him out? Would she be able to? Should she try what Draco had been about to teach her and focus on one single memory?

Did he know of Draco's skill with occlumency? It was fascinating for Hermione to watch. Voldemort stood staring into Draco's eyes and he just stared back, completely calm, as if nothing at all was wrong. How did he do that?

To Hermione's terror, Voldemort suddenly looked to her. Surely he was satisfied and just wanted to ask a question or something. No, his wand flicked towards her and she felt his strength in attempting to break down the wall she had instinctively put up. It was nothing like what she had experienced with Draco. The Dark Lord was rough and crude while entering, it felt sharp and painful in her head, like he was hammering at the wall with a pick axe. Suddenly, the feeling was gone.

One look at Draco told her that she had done something terribly wrong. He was trying to keep his cool air but she could feel him shaking beside her, the panic in his eyes even more obvious. She felt cold, numb; like a hole had been ripped from her chest. This was bad.

"You dare to use occlumency against me!" he shouted. Subconsciously, Hermione whimpered in terror. The last time he had been this angry with them she had been tortured ruthlessly. "This could only mean one thing." Hermione stopped breathing as she waited for him to reach the conclusion. "Lies!" He turned to Draco. "You dare lie to Lord Voldemort?!" He began pacing the room angrily. "This will not do. This child. It is a girl isn't it?" He stopped and stared at Hermione. Apparently, her eyes said it all. "It is tradition! Only a boy can be considered an heir, only a boy can carry on a name. You must have a son!" He hissed and continued pacing, deep in thought. "Of course, it must be disposed of," the snake man concluded.

"No!" Hermione cried.

"You have no say in this. You must not have this child. It is decided. You will continue until you have a son," He told her. "After the child is disposed of, you both shall face your punishments."

Voldemort moved back to the center of the room and raised his wand. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The Dark Lord began saying the incantation to the abortion spell at the same moment Draco yelled for Minky. A bright blue light appeared at the end of Voldemort's wand and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and tried to cover her belly with her arms. Something small and warm touched her elbow and she felt the familiar feeling of disapparation.

Hermione felt her feet hit the ground but didn't dare open her eyes. Had the spell hit? She'd seen the light the spell emitted so did that meant their daughter was dead? She couldn't bare the thought.

Draco's strong arms came around her and he held her tightly against him.

"It's alright," he told her, though his voice was shaking. "The spell didn't hit you," he whispered.

Relief flooded through her and she couldn't help the sobs from breaking free. It must have been so close. Another second and their baby would have been dead.

"Master Malfoy okay?" she heard a tiny voice squeak.

"Yes, Minky. Thank-you," he replied, never letting Hermione go. Even through her shock and tears, she was still surprised at Draco's polite behavior towards the elf. "Minky, I want you to go back to the manor, to the Dungeons and bring Ginny Weasley here if she is alive. If not, don't endanger yourself anymore and get to safety," he instructed.

Hermione stopped crying and looked up at him. "Thank-you," she said in a small, wobbly voice. He just nodded and held her tighter. Hermione closed her eyes and hoped that Ginny would be alright.

"I have to let go now," Draco whispered to her. "I'm going to set up the wards." Hermione nodded.

She felt much colder when he loosened his grip and finally stepped away, but didn't say anything. Looking around, she saw that they were on a large, isolated property surrounded by grass reaching to a forest on one side, and a cliff on the other. In the center stood a rather small looking cottage with a cobblestone path leading to the front door and large trees on either side. She watched Draco as he moved around the edge of the grass, just before the trees, waving his wand in complicated patterns and muttering spells under his breath. It was amazing the calmness he still had after everything that had just happened.

As he started to walk back to her, a crack was heard and between them, appeared Minky and an unconscious Ginny. Draco ran to them and scooped the girl easily into his arms.

"Let's get her inside," he said hurriedly.

Hermione was seemingly frozen in place. While she was practically unharmed, Ginny's thin limbs were covered in blood and bruises. Her hair was matted and dirty and her face was stained with a mixture of blood, dirt, and tears.

"Hermione," Draco called softly to her.

She snapped out of her haze and followed into the cottage. Draco took Ginny to a bedroom and laid her down on the bed.

"Why don't you go to the kitchen and see what we have there," Draco told her.

Hermione shook her head. "There is no way I'm leaving."

Draco sighed. "Fine. I'm going to try to heal her the best I can with just the wand."

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening. Everything seemed to be blurring into chaos around her. She was safe but was still terrified. One of her best friends was laying in a bed in front of her, bloody and broken from over a month of torture. Ginny must have lost about 30 pounds since Hermione had last seen her. Her mind flashed back to the week that she had spent in the dungeons. They were barely fed at all down there. Hermione couldn't bare to see her friend like this, but she couldn't leave her. She seemed so small and fragile. Nothing like she used to. Draco would fix this. Draco would fix her. But Hermione couldn't help but think that even if Draco was able to heal her physically, mentally, she would be far from alright.

While Draco muttered healing spells above her, Hermione moved to Ginny's side and sat down in the chair by the bed. What was going to happen to them? Would they be safe at the cottage? Would Ginny need more help than they could give her? What had happened to the others? Hermione really wanted to talk to her friend. She didn't want Ginny to have to relive all those terrible memories, but she had to know what happened to the others. Maybe Ginny had more information on survivors than she did.

Slowly, the cuts and scrapes across her body closed and the bruises that coloured her skin faded. She still looked much too frail, but she did look better.

"Tergo," Draco whispered, causing the dirt, and blood to be cleaned from her body. "I need to wake her up. I tried to heal a few internal injuries, but I need to know the extent of them. I need to know if I missed anything," he told Hermione.

"Okay," she replied quietly.

Draco pointed his wand at Ginny's chest and spoke, "rennervate." Immediately, Ginny stirred and Hermione grabbed her hand.

Ginny's eyes suddenly popped open wide and she began wildly searching the room, breathing quickly and quaking with fear.

"Where am I? What's going on?" She asked hoarsely in a panicked voice.

"Ginny, it's okay. You're safe now," Hermione quickly told her, hoping to ease some of her fears.

"Hermione?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here. We're not at the manor anymore. We're far away from there," Hermione assured her. A look of relief settled across Ginny's features, though she was still shaking. Then she realized that the broken witch didn't realize Draco was in the room with them. He was standing off in the corner. Hermione didn't know how Ginny would react to being in the same room as him, but she knew that she needed to be told before she found him herself. "Ginny, don't be afraid, Draco is here, but he is here to help you. He won't hurt you. He helped rescue you."

Ginny's head moved so quickly around the room that it looked almost like a twitch. She spotted him standing in the corner as far away from them as possible and clung tighter to Hermione's arm.

Draco looked even more pale than normal if that was even possible. Hermione couldn't imagine what he was feeling right then.

"Ginny," he started, and cleared his throat. "You have to know how sorry I am for what's happened to you. I was a coward; I didn't know what to do. Just recently," he looked at Hermione, "I have seen that it isn't okay to just stand by and let these things continue to happen. I have been given the courage to finally do something about it. I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I want to help you."

Ginny still looked at him with fear glazed eyes.

"I need to know if anything else really hurts. I have already healed quite a lot, but I need to know if I missed something," Draco told her.

As if she had just realized that she had been healed, she looked down at her body, examining her arms and hands.

"You… healed me?" Ginny asked quietly.

Draco nodded. Hermione spoke up. "Truly, Draco has been helping you." Her grip loosened on Hermione's arm.

"Everything still kind of aches, but it doesn't hurt too badly," she said timidly.

"Okay, good. I'm going to go get Minky, my house elf, to make you some food," he explained to her and slowly made his way out of the room.

"We didn't know what had happened to you," Ginny told Hermione quietly.

"I'm fine. A lot of crazy things have been going on. I'll tell you once you've gotten some rest," Hermione replied. "Wait, who's we?"

"Our group," she said vaguely. Obviously remembering this was too much for her as her breathing rate immediately increased.

"It's alright, we can talk about this later." Hermione was dying to know who she was with, who was still alive, but she controlled herself for Ginny's sake.

A few minutes later, Minky entered carrying a plate of food. "Master tells Minky not to apparate. Me mights scare girl. Me brings food for girl," she explained.

"Thanks, Minky," Hermione said helping Ginny sit up enough to hold the plate on her lap and eat the food. "Remember not to eat too fast or you'll throw it up," she reminded her. Ginny just nodded and continued to eat.

Once Ginny was finished, Hermione took the plate and got up from beside the bed. "Get some rest. If you need anything, I'll be right outside," she told her.

As quietly as possible, Hermione closed the door behind her and moved into the kitchen where she set the plate on the counter.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked.

"I'm fine. Just a little shaken up," she replied. "How secure is this cottage?" Looking around, Hermione found that the cottage was much smaller than she would have expected from the Malfoys. It seemed much brighter and more homey than the manor was with white walls and cupboards and a light brown wooden floor. Windows opened to the front of the cottage letting in even more light. Hermione liked the feel it had. It was multiple floors and had many rooms, but still had an almost country feel to it.

"Nobody has been here in years. The reason it is in such good condition is because periodically throughout each year house elves are here to take care of it and keep it stocked, just in case we want to use it. It is much too small for my parents' liking so they probably wouldn't tell anyone about it due to embarrassment or something," he explained.

"So, we should be safe here, at least for a little while?" Hermione asked.

"Safer than anywhere else with the Dark Lord hunting for us."

Hermione couldn't help thinking about Harry and his parents. They were in a similar situation and look how that turned out.

"I can't believe we actually did it," she whispered.

"Well, that's only part of the battle. We have to figure out what to do from here," Draco said.

The thought made Hermione realize how exhausted the day had truly made her. She sighed. "Maybe we can think about that tomorrow. One step at a time right?"

Draco nodded. The day had been total chaos. He was having a hard time himself believing that they had actually escaped successfully. He had to admit that he had been utterly terrified. He hated losing control like that. He had lied to the Dark Lord. Draco had no idea he had it in him to do something like that. Maybe he had thought they might have stood a chance that their word would be believed. In that case, he must have had a moment of insanity. Of course he would check both their minds for the truth. He had been prepared, but he knew Hermione was not. He knew she would try to block him out, if only from instinct. He had been proud that she had been able to do it; Voldemort was much more rough when he used legilimency, and exceedingly more powerful than Draco had been when training her. But blocking him had just made him angrier, and able to deduce the truth.

He had been so close to losing his future daughter. He had heard the spell on the Dark Lord's lips, seen the light erupt from the tip of his wand. He hoped that Minky had been able to hear him, to get to him, and she had. The little house elf had disapparated them from that room only a moment before the abortion spell would have hit Hermione. He couldn't thank the elf enough. Draco had been slightly surprised at his own reaction to the elf. Minky had always been there for him, even more than his own parents. The thought of putting her in any more danger than necessary scared him. Apparently, the risk had been worth it. Ginny had been rescued from the dungeons of the manor. Draco had never been so happy to see a Weasley before.

Upon seeing her broken form, the guilt that had hung around his heart since he had been forced to hurt her, shattered him. This was just a girl who was trying to do the right thing and had been locked up and tortured for over a month. It wasn't fair, and he had been one of those people who hurt her. The way she had looked at him when she had woken was something that would haunt him. Ginny had been so terrified. He hoped he had done a decent job at healing her, but knew that mentally, she would need a lot more than a spell or a charm.

Draco didn't know where they would go from there, or what would happen to them, but he had already decided that, no matter what, he would be by Hermione's side. She was his wife, and even though he didn't think they were in love, he was prepared to stand up to his role. He had to be.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys! Sorry, this took a little longer to update than I wanted to. The Olympics have started! YAY! And what's really cool is I actually know a couple people competing in them. The only problem is that this means slower updates :( Give me some reviews to boost my motivation to keep writing as quickly as possible for you! You guys are awesome!**


	13. After the Storm

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling created the wonderful world of Harry Potter!**

Hermione's eyes popped open. Something wasn't right. It was extremely dark, probably still the middle of the night. She moved slowly as not to wake Draco beside her, and slipped out of the bed. Dragging her hand along the furniture, she made her way to the door through the darkness. As soon as she was out of the room, she heard a piercing scream and knew instantly it was Ginny. Hermione ran as quickly as possible to her friend's room.

"Ginny, it's okay! It's Hermione! You're safe!" She told her, coming to Ginny's side. Having had a few nightmares herself after that week, Hermione understood what her friend was going through; fear, confusion, uncertainty.

Ginny was crying as Hermione pulled her up into a hug assuring her that nobody was going to hurt her, that she was safe. Slowly, the sobs grew softer.

"You need to try to go back to sleep. I know it's hard, trust me, but your body really needs rest to recover." They still had hours of night left.

"Stay with me?" Ginny trembled.

"Of course," Hermione replied. She was tired herself, but her friend needed her. She sat back in the chair and tried to make herself comfortable.

Eventually, both girls managed to drift off to sleep, only to be woken by sunlight beginning to flood in through the window. Hermione pulled the warm blanket closer around herself. Then she realized that she hadn't had a blanket when she had settled down beside her friend for the remainder of the night. Had Draco put it around her while she slept?

A sudden movement took her mind off the abnormality.

"Hermione? Hermione!" Ginny called, disoriented again.

"I'm right here," she assured her.

The girls sat in silence for a few minutes while Ginny calmed herself down. She looked a little better than she had the night before but was still adjusting to her situation.

Minky came into the room, bringing both girls a plate of breakfast.

"Will you tell me what happened now?" Ginny asked quietly as they ate.

Was she ready to know? She had just gotten through her first night of freedom. Was she emotionally stable enough to know about everything that had taken place, everything that had changed? The past month had been full of emotional chaos that Hermione herself was still trying to work through. Ginny was strong, but could anybody go through what she had and still be level headed? It could help her understand Draco a bit better which was going to become necessary since they were staying in the same house for the time being. To Ginny, Draco was still just a Death Eater who had hurt her. She did need to see past the things he had been forced to do and acknowledge the things he chose to do as Hermione had. She could see it in his eyes that the terrified look Ginny had sent him the night before had shaken him and heightened the guilt he felt.

Hermione struggled with this choice. Should she tell her friend who obviously wanted to know for some reason, or wait until she was stronger?

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Hermione decided to ask.

"Because it's obvious that something was different with you. You seem untouched! I don't know what happened to many of the others. I just thought, maybe things were different for different people," she tried to explain.

It started to make sense to Hermione. While Ginny had been terribly thin, covered with cuts and bruises, Hermione had looked almost the same as she had before the battle. It did need some explaining to the confused girl.

She took a deep breath. "Alright," she gave in, not really knowing how to explain everything properly. "It's a lot of… insanity. I didn't believe part of it myself when I was first told." Now Ginny looked even more confused. "Apparently, You-Know-Who had some sort of…" she searched for an appropriate word, "affaire probably nineteen or twenty years ago. Out of that came a child. He probably killed or imprisoned the woman and passed the child off to somebody else or something." She paused, thinking of what to say next. "Anyways, when I was brought before him, he somehow recognized me. He performed this charm and apparently, I was that child." She waited for those words to sink in.

Ginny's eyes widened. "That's impossible! You can't be…But your parents are muggles! He can't think…" Hermione stopped her.

"I went through those exact same thoughts," she told her quietly. "But evidence pointed to that being the truth. He locked me in a bedroom instead of the dungeons, sent a healer to me, fed me, plus the charm that proved a parental bond. Then there's the fact that he's determined to get an heir from me-"

"What does that mean," Ginny interrupted.

"He chose Draco for the task and had us married." Ginny's jaw dropped. "He wanted me to have a son. We'd been trying to figure out what to do for a while, but couldn't see a way out. I'm pregnant Ginny, but it's the wrong gender so he wants to kill her and that was what forced us to this escape." Hermione was talking fairly quickly now while Ginny was in shock at her words. "I know that Draco gave up everything to escape and even sent his house elf back for you. He isn't an evil Death Eater, he's the father of my unborn child."

"D-did he, f-force you-"

"No, of course not! Actually, we got in quite a bit of trouble because he let me sleep on the sofa for a while instead of in the bed with him."

Ginny thought about this for a moment. "Really? Draco Malfoy did that?" Hermione nodded.

Ginny had taken all of that information a lot better than she had thought.

"So, you're married, and he didn't force you to do anything, and you're pregnant," she started, putting pieces together. "Are in love with him?"

"No!" Hermione answered quickly, then hesitated. "Well, I don't think so." Her friend's eyebrows raised. "We were trapped in the same room for about a month. I care about him, but I don't think it's love." Who was she trying to convince, Ginny or herself? "Okay, so I've told you my story, what about yours?" she asked to change the topic.

Ginny visibly tensed. It was a lot easier talking about others than it was talking about your own horrifying experiences. Was she ready to tell her? Ginny knew that Hermione was probably wondering about who she was with when she was taken.

She was absolutely shocked at Hermione's story. It was a lot to take in. Her friend was married to their enemy and expecting his child. Her mind flashed back to that night when he had been forced to choose between her insanity and torturing her. She remembered the almost pleading look he held that seemed close to matching her own. She could see in his eyes that he didn't want to do it but that the alternative was even worse on his conscience. It hadn't hurt nearly as much when he stuttered the incantation of the cruciatus curse as when all the others had cursed her before him. Ginny knew the pain she suffered was a whole lot less than she would have at Voldemort's wand.

One look at Hermione's face told her of the heavy weight of worry on her chest, wondering who might have survived the battle, and what had happened to them. She shakily cleared her throat and began her story.

 _She ran through the rubble of the falling school, here and there turning to fire a spell at pursuers, dodging spells that were fired back, trying to stay close to Ron who was sprinting just ahead of her, George beyond him._

 _Seeing Harry crumple to the ground was one of the most heartbreaking experiences of her life. She had screamed and sunk to the ground as she watched, horrified. She knew she would never love anyone the way she loved him. Her father had helped her back to her feet and told that she had to be strong. The family was gathered around as he told them all to meet at the edge of the forest, hide in the trees, and they could disapparate to safety together. They were told though, if it was necessary to disapparate earlier to do so, not to wait too long, just in case._

 _Tears blurred her vision as she ran. Her family was getting smaller and smaller every minute it seemed. First Fred was lost, then she watched on with horror as her mother lost a fight with Bellatrix Lestrange, who let out an evil laugh of triumph at the death of the blood traitor._

 _Finally reaching the forest, they ducked into the trees where they spotted Bill and Fleur already waiting._

 _"Has anyone seen Hermione?" Ron asked quietly. The silence that followed told of just another possible loss._

 _"She's a bright one, good dueler. I'm sure she can hold her own, figure out a way to get herself out of there," George assured them._

 _"Where are the others?" Ginny wondered aloud, worried about losing more of her family. They were taking far too long and the tension continued to rise among the hidden six._

 _Finally, Arthur Weasley showed up to the meeting spot, bringing with him an exhausted looking Neville and Luna._

 _"Found these two along the way. We can't wait any longer, we're being pursued!" he quickly told them. "They aren't just killing; they are capturing as well. We don't know who has been captured but we had a lot of people high up in the Order here so we can't go to any of the safe houses. Any other ideas?"_

 _"What about the others?" Ginny demanded, Ron nodding his head in agreement. Were they just going to leave them behind?_

 _"I haven't seen them since we got separated. If they aren't here by now…" Ginny could tell how difficult this was for her father. He was trying to lead them right, trying to do everything so that they would have the possibility of survival. Fresh tears threatened to fall, but now was not the time. Maybe they could still make it and go somewhere else._

 _Ron cleared his throat, attempting to pull himself together. "When we were on the run, Hermione took us to some isolated places where we were never discovered. Us three are the only ones who know about them," he suggested._

 _"Brilliant! Can you take us there?" Bill asked._

 _Ron hesitated. Ginny knew that he had never been as confident in his apparition and disapparation abilities as any of his brothers. He also had to try._

 _He got that determined look on his face. "Yes," he told them._

 _They stood in a circle, tightly gripping hands, as Ron took a deep breath and lead the team in disapparation._

 _I was a great relief when they all landed together, each all in one piece. Ron was obviously quite proud of his achievement as he kept reciting the shocked expression of "I did it, I really did it!"_

 _"Yes, you did quite well," Luna agreed airily. George just chuckled dryly._

 _They had no equipment, no supplies, but they were alive, somewhat together, and safe for the time being. Each person nursed their own wounds from the fight, but none too serious. They made a small fire and Bill cast a spell to stop the smoke from giving away their location, and another to create a barrier for the flames. They were all hungry and exhausted, but safe._

 _As they slept there on the cold, hard ground, another round of chaos began. They were woken to shouts and spells against their wards. Terror leaped into Ginny's heart. How had they been found?_

 _"Run! Get out of here. Don't look back!" her dad directed._

 _Somehow, the barriers fell and the chase was on again. Turning around, Ginny found that half the group was already gone! She started running but could hear the Death Eaters getting closer. She heard somebody yell "Stupify!" and Fleur went down, unconscious. There was shouting and spells flying; Bill would never let his wife go without a fight. Ginny turned to look as horror struck again. A green light flashed and Bill fell to the ground. Another cry of anguish escaped Ginny before she could stop herself, and the attention was snapped onto her._

 _"Ginny! Go! Run!" her father called to her. Before she could even start running again, all her limbs were locked in place and her fear was overwhelming, her heart thundering in her chest as if it, by itself, would be able to escape. "Not my daughter!" she heard her father yell. More spells flew around her until out of the corner of her eye, she saw him go down._

"And in the next moment, I was taken to the manor," Ginny said, finishing her story. She hadn't gotten very far before both girls were sobbing.

"W-what happened to the others?" Hermione asked sniffling.

"I don't know. I think they got away, but I don't know for sure."

"Do you know of any other survivors?"

"There could be. I've always hoped that there were many others, that somehow we'd be able to regain strength. Though that was pretty much the thought that was keeping me sane all those weeks."

"Oh Ginny," Hermione said softly through sobs.

Plates of mostly eaten food discarded to the side, both girls continuously sobbed. She had tried to be strong for Ginny, be the shoulder she could cry on, but that had failed miserably. Ginny had lost so much; many members of her family, her boyfriend, in many ways herself. Hermione couldn't bare hearing of the deaths that had occurred. The Weasleys were like a second family to her, and every time she thought of them, she cried harder.

Wiping her eyes and taking deep breaths, Hermione tried to control herself.

"There is a bathroom around the corner if you want to have a bath or shower," she told Ginny in a shaky voice.

"Okay, thanks," she paused, sniffling. "Can you help me there?"

"Of course," Hermione replied. Ginny was still extremely weak but she would get through this.

Putting one arm around Hermione's neck, the two girls made their way to the bathroom.

Draco sat at the kitchen table eating his breakfast. He had also heard Ginny scream that night and ran to make sure everything was alright. Through the partially open door, he had spotted Hermione in the room, comforting her friend. He had turned and made his way back to bed. He wasn't needed there. He would probably just scare Ginny even more than she already was. As he sat down on the bed, something had felt off. He had known that Hermione wouldn't leave her friend in that state. Draco still could not describe what had come over him, but he had grabbed a blanket and headed back to the room where he found Hermione asleep in the chair beside the bed. He disillusioned himself the best that he could before silently moving into the room. If Ginny had woken to find him sneaking into her bedroom, it would have terrified her. He had draped the blanket over Hermione's sleeping form before quickly leaving, and returning to bed.

He had felt something in the middle of that night that he didn't quite understand. Maybe he had simply been over tired and his emotions were getting the best of him. He tried to convince himself that nothing more was going on. They were friends now, and he didn't want to mess that up. Draco told himself that acting on these emotions wasn't something Hermione would want and would do just that; ruin a newly formed friendship.

He hadn't seen Hermione that morning, but he assumed she was spending some time catching up with her good friend. He wasn't expecting to see her walk into the kitchen with watery, red, and swollen eyes. She had been crying, and for quite a while it seemed. Forgetting about his half-eaten food, he moved to stand in front of her. Something was very wrong.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

She didn't answer but wrapped her arms around him and cried into his shoulder. Draco had never experienced something like this before. Nobody had ever come to him for comfort. They knew he was likely just to shrug them off. He had held her as she cried before, but this time, she had come to him and he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do.

Slowly, he hugged her back and knew he had done the right thing as he felt her body relax slightly. Now he was worried. What had caused her so much pain? Was it something to do with the baby? Fear clenched his gut. What was going on?

"Look at me," he told her. "What's wrong? Has something happened to the baby?"

Slowly, she tilted her head to look at him. "No," she whispered.

Draco couldn't help the flood of relief he felt. "Then what is it?"

"Ginny told me what happened," she started. "Mrs. Weasley, Fred, and Bill are…dead, and she doesn't know what happened to Charlie or Percy. Ron, George, Neville and Luna were with them in their group but they got separated, and Ginny and Fleur were captured and Mr. Weasley was hit with an unknown spell, and there must be others who survived," Hermione rambled quickly through her tears.

Draco had never been fond of the Weasleys, but that could have been because all he ever heard about them were terrible things. He could tell that they meant a great deal to her. If what she said was true, the other part of this group may still be alive and in hiding. Surely he would have known if Looney Luna Lovegood had been captured.

"Do you know where they might have gone?" he asked her.

"Ron is with them and he might go to some of the other places we hid while we were on the run. It seemed that it didn't go so well for them last time, but they don't have many options." Hermione got this determined look on her face and stepped away from him. He let her pull away and braced himself for the insanity that would surely follow. "I want to go find them."

Draco waited to see if she was joking. Of course she wouldn't joke about something like this. "You can't do that. It is far too dangerous. You don't even have a wand. You would be putting both yourself and the baby at risk," he told her. "I'll go," he suggested. "You give me a list of places and I'll find them."

"You can't go! You are now hunted by both sides. You would be killed on sight!" she argued.

Draco was both frustrated and flattered by her statement. He didn't want to be told he couldn't do something, but it showed that she cared what happened to him. He knew she was right though. Without anyone to back him up from their side, finding anybody in that group, except possibly Luna, would prove fatal.

"I'll go." They both turned to see Ginny standing at the kitchen entrance in fresh robes and wet hair hanging over one shoulder, slightly leaning against the wall for support.

"Ginny, I know you're strong, but nobody is that strong," Hermione said, moving closer to her friend.

"My brothers may be out there somewhere, and they don't know if I'm alive or not. It is too much risk for either of you to go. I can do this," she replied.

"You have to recover. You've been through so much. You can't just bounce back into action right away. Plus, you don't have a wand either," Hermione argued.

"Well, we're going to have to find wands anyways. What if we're found here and only one of us is armed?" Ginny did have a good point.

Draco was searching his mind for some sort of idea when he remembered something. "There is this chest in the study," he started. "It's truly awful, but it contains many wands of people who have been killed. If Minky can get back there and steal a few…" he trailed off. He hated the idea of putting Minky in that dangerous of a situation but it seemed like the only option.

"That's horrible!" Hermione exclaimed, then thought about it. "If Minky could get back in… but wouldn't that be terribly dangerous?"

Draco nodded. Knowing Hermione's love of house elves, he was surprised she was even thinking about it.

"Is that our only option for getting wands?" Ginny asked.

"I think so," Draco replied.

"Then I think we should do it," she said.

Draco had never really been concerned for the lives of house elves, but now, he found that he had become rather attached to Minky over the years. She could be killed in this task.

"Minky!" he called.

The little elf appeared before them within seconds.

"Yes Master," she greeted.

"We have a desperate need for wands," he told her. "If we were to be found here without them we wouldn't survive. There is a chest in the study that has many wands in it. This will be very dangerous. We need you to go there and retrieve some wands from the chest. Since it is so dangerous, I am asking if you would do this for us."

Minky looked close to tears. "Master Malfoy is giving Minky a choice?" she clarified.

"Yes."

Both Ginny and Hermione looked completely shocked. Draco was surprised at his actions himself, but he would reason with himself later.

"Oh, yes! Minky would be honoured to do this for Master!" she croaked, beaming with happiness. In the next moment, she snapped her fingers and disapparated.

Twenty minutes later, the three found themselves sitting around the table, tensely awaiting the return of the elf. It was taking far too long! She should have been back by now! Hermione was getting worried. What if the poor elf was found and killed, or worse? She was still a bit shocked that Draco had actually given Minky a choice in this matter, but she was very glad he did. She had felt better about letting her go once she had chosen to. But now, as time went by Hermione grew more frightened for the elf.

A pop sounded in the room and relief was felt all around. Minky had returned. She was out of breath but looked pleased.

"Minky did it Master!" she said, holding up three wands in each tiny fisted hand.

"That's great! Thank-you Minky," Draco told her while she glowed up at him.

"There was this one thing though. Theys saw Minky! Theys saw the wands Minky carries! Theys try to catch Minky but Minky gots away," she explained.

The Death Eaters now knew that they had wands. This would make leaving even more dangerous.

"It's okay Minky. You did great," Draco assured her.

"Now that we have wands, I want to look for my brothers," Ginny said.

"Ginny, we already talked about this. You need to recover. You need some time! Can't you just wait until you are more fit to make decisions like this?"

"Hermione, I'm alright. I may be a bit weak, but I can't not do this!" she argued.

"I don't want to lose you again. I don't want you to be recaptured," Hermione replied. Fear flashed in Ginny's eyes.

"I'll be careful, I promise."

"You can't even stand for too long by yourself," Draco, who had been rather quiet, pointed out.

"They're the only family I have left!"

"I know." Hermione put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Can you just wait a week before you go?" she asked, knowing she couldn't stop her friend.

"Fine, I'll wait three days. No more," she compromised.

"At least it's something," Hermione muttered. Would they ever just be safe?

Hermione couldn't get her hopes up that she would see Ron again. She couldn't let her heart be broken like that again. Ginny would be around for a few more days, resting and recovering from her ordeal before jumping into another one. Hermione wanted to do something herself to help, but knew that her place was at the cottage. Ginny was the only person who could do this, but Hermione didn't want to think about that. She wanted to spend as much time with her friend as she could in those few days. She didn't think she could bare losing another person right now.

 **Author's Note:**

 **So there's another chapter! It's quite long but I hope you like it and I hope it was worth the wait! There is just so much to watch of the Olympic games! Thanks to everyone who reviewed for the last chapter. I wouldn't have finished this long one for today without your wonderful words. They mean so much to me! Keep reviewing and tell me what you think!**


	14. What Can Worry Do

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, that wonderful creation belongs to JK Rowling**

Hermione sat outside behind the cottage, where some deck chairs were set up overlooking the cliff. It was warm now, and the mid-July sun was just setting, turning the sky a pinkish orange colour. Ginny sat in the chair beside her and they marveled at the view together.

Beside Hermione on the small table sat her new wand. For the past couple of days, they had experimented with each of the six wands that Minky had bravely brought back from the manor, just with simple spells, trying to determine which was best suited to each of them. They would never be as good as their original wands, but at least they gave them something to defend themselves with. Hermione had to admit that even though this new wand felt a bit awkward at times, it was a whole lot better than it had been using Bellatrix's. She had absolutely despised that wand; almost as much as the person it belonged to.

Hermione was terribly worried about what was coming the next day. Ginny had been resting, trying to recover as quickly as possible, as well as practicing with her new wand. She was so stubborn when she got her mind set on something. Tomorrow, she would be leaving on her journey to find the remainder of her family, Neville, and Luna. Though Hermione commended her determination, courage, and heart, she still wished she would wait longer before leaving. How could she possibly be ready to go out in this new dark and cruel world by herself?

They had already worked out the details of this mission. Ginny had been given the list of all the places the trio had stayed while hunting Horcruxes, though it was designed so that a pattern needed to be tapped into the parchment in order to get the next location to appear, just in case. If she found the group, she was to apparate them just outside the wards and send a Patronus to Draco and Hermione inside so that the wards could be taken down for them, and put back up once they were inside. If the group was not found after the list had been completed, Ginny was to return to the cottage alone so they could work out another plan.

On the part of the plan involving apparition, Hermione had put up a fuss. Ginny wasn't yet seventeen, so it wasn't legal! Ginny and Draco had both decided that something being illegal didn't matter anymore when Death Eaters ran the ministry. Hermione had become quiet exasperated and questioned about what they planned to do about the magical trace that was still on her. Draco had had an answer for that too saying that he couldn't remove it, but he could disguise it for a little while. Hermione wondered how Ginny had even learned apparition. All she had said was that her brothers taught her before the school year, just in case she needed it. The only two of the Weasleys she could see teaching Ginny illegal magic would be Fred and George. She refused to mention how they had managed that without the ministry knowing.

"Everything is going to be fine you know," Ginny said suddenly.

"How could you know that?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"I don't know; I just feel it."

"That's not much to go on," Hermione pointed out.

"No, but it's not nothing either, is it?" Ginny replied.

Hermione didn't quite know what to say to that. The previous day, a strange calmness had taken over her friend; as if she had accepted what was happening, that she couldn't change it, so she would just be at peace with it. But this was her choice. She could change what could happen. Her statement that was meant for reassurance did nothing of the sort as Hermione watched the sky fade into darkness.

Ginny had gotten much stronger in the past couple of days; stronger than they could have ever dreamed she would be already. Hermione decided that the girl was so determined to go on this quest that she willed her body to recover faster.

"I'm going to go to bed; big day tomorrow," Ginny told her, standing up from the chair and moving back towards the cottage.

"I think I'm going to stay out here for a little longer. Good night," Hermione said, leaning back in the chair.

"Good night," Ginny replied, stepping inside.

Hermione looked up at the stars that had begun to glow in the dark sky and took a deep breath of the cool summer air. Being locked in that room for so long really made her appreciate the outdoors and the wonder of nature. The night air felt amazing as it filled her lungs with its crisp freshness.

How did everything go from chaotic to calm to craziness again? Couldn't they just have a little more calmness before the chaos took its place in their lives again? Didn't they deserve some time of peace? No, they didn't get that luxury and Hermione doubted if they ever would again. She recalled how much simpler everything was when the most frightening thing they had to worry about was what house they would get sorted into at Hogwarts, or having to deal with Snape's potions class. Oh, how she would love to be back there now and really appreciate how wonderful life had truly been. Though there were definitely times of danger, frustration, pain, humiliation, she had been together with her friends, under the protection of Dumbledore, and had so much hope and life in her. She hadn't realized then how later, she would learn to appreciate the small things that hadn't meant much to her younger self. Now, she and her friends were separated by evil and by death, she had to deal with the fact that she was the Dark Lord's daughter, she was now pregnant, and she had begun to care for somebody who used to be her enemy. Life had become so complicated that she really didn't know what to do with it anymore.

Hearing a scuffing noise beside her, she whipped her head around to see what had made it.

"It sure is beautiful out here," Draco remarked. He had sat in the vacated chair where Ginny had been previously, staring at the sky above him.

Hermione let out a breath. She needed to stop being so jumpy. "Yes, it is," she replied.

"Are you planning to come to bed tonight?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.

"Eventually," she told him quietly. She wasn't sure she would get to sleep even if she tried. Her mind was so full of thoughts and emotions all centered around her friend leaving the next day. Hermione just got her back, and now she was risking her life again to find any family she might have left.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm alright, just worried is all. What friend wouldn't be?"

Draco nodded. "Ginny doesn't seem too worried."

"All the more reason for me to be worried for her. She's not ready. How can she be? Only a few days ago, she was in the dungeons being tortured and now she is ready to go out by herself and risk being captured again? I really don't like this," Hermione insisted.

"Yes, she might be going a little early, but it's her life, her choice," he said.

Hermione knew he was right. It wasn't like she was going to be able to stop her from going.

The two sat together in a peaceful silence. It was strange to think of how far they had come in those several weeks. They went from hating each other, to friends who could simply enjoy sitting quietly and gazing at the stars. This man beside her used to terrorize Hermione and her friends at school, making their lives as miserable as possible. Oh, how things had changed.

"Hermione, it's nearly two o'clock in the morning. Don't you think it's time to go inside?" Draco asked.

Had it really been that long? Hermione was surprised to find out how late it truly was.

"You don't have to stay out here you know," she told him. He stayed silent. Why was he sitting outside with her? It seemed like he really didn't want to be, so why did he stay? It was nice to have his company, but the action confused her.

As the night grew on, Hermione found herself getting very sleepy. Should she go inside? She thought about it, but couldn't make herself move. It was so calm outside. The night air was a little cool, but not cold and the darkness around her made her eyelids seem very heavy. She leaned her head back against the chair. Maybe she would close her eyes, just for a minute or two and then head inside.

Draco didn't really know why he stayed outside with Hermione. He knew she was safe out there; he had put the wards up himself, but she just seemed so vulnerable sitting alone.

This outdoors patio overlooking the cliff behind the cottage was one of his favourite places there. It had a way of surrounding you with its peace, even if your life lacked any of it. With no cities or towns anywhere nearby, the stars were brilliant. There were thousands of tiny glowing pinpricks that covered the black sky. As he stared at those stars, transfixed by their beauty, he wondered what had been going on at the manor. Were his parents still alive? Were they being tortured while he sat in peaceful bliss? What had the Dark Lord done when they had disapparated? Draco had seen what had happened if he got angry enough. People died. Lots of them. Who would have been the target of his wrath after they had left? That little house elf for sure. Had he ordered a search? Were there Death Eaters out looking for them right now? If so, what would their orders be? Would they have been told to kill them or bring them back alive? Draco's guess was that he would be killed and Hermione would be taken back. She was worth much more than he was to the Dark Lord.

As it got later, Draco got more and more tired. He wanted to go to bed, but for some reason, he couldn't leave the girl in the chair next to him alone out there.

When he finally turned his head away from the sky to look over at Hermione, he found that she had fallen asleep. He smiled to himself. Of course, she would stay outside until she fell asleep from the exhaustion of her thoughts. She was so stubborn; she couldn't even go inside when she became tired.

Draco stood up, stretching his legs after hours of sitting. He couldn't leave Hermione sleeping outside. He took the wand off the table beside her and tucked it into his robes, then carefully lifted her sleeping form into his arms. She stirred slightly, but only to subconsciously curl herself into Draco's chest. A swarm of feeling overwhelmed him as he looked down at her. Draco's heart wanted something that his brain knew could never be. They might be married but that didn't mean she wanted anything more than a friendship. It wasn't like they had fallen in love and decided for themselves to get married; no, this was forced upon them, and a friendship was the most he could ask for from the relationship. Carefully, he made his way back to the cottage and to the bedroom they had been using. Draco gently laid her on the bed and pulled the covers over her shoulders. He sighed and got ready for bed himself. At least she no longer hated him. He still could not understand how she could forgive him for everything he had done, but he was glad that she did.

Hermione sleepily blinked open her eyes. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but apparently, she had. Expecting to still be outside, she was surprised to find she was laying down, a soft surface under her body. Looking around, she found that she was back in the cottage, in bed. Hermione was sure that she hadn't come inside last night. Confusion settled around her. Draco had been outside as well last night. Had he carried her to bed? She couldn't think of another way. First the blanket, then carrying her to bed, Hermione smiled. Draco was so different lately.

Scooting out of the bed, she realized she was still in her day robes. She had to admit that it would have made her extremely self-conscious and a little violated if Draco had changed her while she slept.

Looking around the room, she decided that Draco had come to bed last night and that he had already gotten up. Quickly, she changed into new robes and headed into the kitchen to get some breakfast. Sure enough, Draco and Ginny were already there, eating some breakfast in silence. The relationship between those two was still extremely strained, but she couldn't blame them. At least the were sort of trying.

"Hermione!" Ginny greeted, seeing her enter the kitchen.

"Morning Ginny," Hermione replied.

Then she noticed the small bag that sat beside her friend. "Are you leaving already?"

Ginny nodded. Hermione knew she would be leaving today, but didn't think it would come so soon. "After breakfast, I'll be heading out."

Hermione took a deep breath to control the tears that already threatened to fall and sat down beside her. "You, remember the pattern?" she asked Ginny about the password for the list of locations.

"Yup. Everything is going to fine Hermione. Stop worrying so much," Ginny told her. But Hermione could now see a bit of doubt in her eyes. Strangely, this made her feel better. In Hermione's opinion, a bit of worry makes you stay on guard and keeps you alive.

All too soon, Ginny was finished her breakfast and gathering the last of her supplies together.

"I'll see you in a little while," Ginny assured her.

A tear rolled down Hermione's cheek as she tightly hugged her good-bye. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will," she agreed. "Take care of yourself too okay?"

"I'll try," Hermione replied. The two girls separated and Hermione wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

"Do me a favor and come back," Draco told Ginny in his sort of good-bye. "We don't want Hermione here wallowing around forever. Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm but knew he was probably correct in thinking that if Ginny never came back, she might not get over it.

Ginny smiled. "I'll do my best," she replied quietly. She took a deep breath before disapparating.

Hermione stood still, staring at the place where Ginny had just been. Numbly, she moved over to the sitting room and slumped down on the sofa. Draco sat down beside her and pulled her closer to him so she rested her back against his chest, his arms around her.

"She'll be okay," he told her. "She's smart, she can look out for herself. She knows not to stay in one place for too long, and won't give anybody the chance to come after her."

Hermione just nodded. She was glad that Draco had followed her, that he hadn't left her alone. She needed to be with somebody right now. She relaxed into his hold, finding that she liked the contact.

"I just wish that I could have gone with," Hermione said.

"You know that it was way too dangerous for you right now. You're a target and pregnant. You have to protect yourself and the baby."

She sighed. "I know. It's that I just got her back and now she's gone off on her own again." Plus, she just couldn't understand how Ginny, after going through over a month of torture, could still be up for anything. How would she be alright by herself? Hermione knew she still had nightmares every night.

"There is something else you need to know about," Draco said with some hesitation. Hermione looked confused. "The Dark Lord is probably going to want you back. He will want to draw you out using someone you love," he paused. "He may try to use your parents."

Hermione realized that she hadn't told him about what had happened to her parents. Sadness flooded through her every time she thought of them, but as far as she knew they were still alive and safe, and that was all that mattered.

She shook her head. "He won't find them." Now it was Draco's turn to be confused.

"When things started getting more dangerous for muggles, and I realized that I was a target for helping Harry, I erased my parents' memories of me, and sent them out of the country with new identities," she explained.

Draco was quiet, seeming shocked. "What do you mean you erased their memories of you?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "They don't know they have a daughter," she clarified.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he told her softly.

"Thanks," she whispered back.

She lay there in silence for a while, wondering where Ginny was right then. Had she made it to the first destination yet?

"I have something I want to show you," Draco said suddenly. He released her from his arms and held out his hand to her.

Hermione took the extended hand and Draco led her up the stairs to a room that she had never been in before.

"I was waiting for a time when you needed some cheering up to show you. I guess now is a good time," he remarked, pushing the door open.

Hermione's eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open slightly. In the room which looked to have previously been a large bedroom was covered on all walls with bookshelves full of books. A two-person loveseat sat in the center, but there wasn't space for much more.

"I thought you said nobody ever used this place," Hermione whispered in awe. It wasn't the most spectacular library room she'd ever seen, but there were so many books not one of the many shelves could fit another.

"It's not, we Malfoys just keep every house completely stocked with everything, just in case, including books," he explained.

Hermione walked over to one of the shelves and brushed her fingers along the practically unused spines, examining their titles. They were mostly written by magical authors with a few here and there written by muggles.

"You can read anything you'd like from here," he told her.

She turned to face him to find a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I thought it might help keep your mind off things," he continued slightly awkwardly.

Hermione wasn't sure if it would keep her mind completely off the worry for her friend, but it certainly would help. "It's wonderful," she told him.

Draco had purposefully waited to let Hermione see the makeshift library until today. He knew how worried she would be, and thought it would be something new for her to explore, if nothing else, and help keep her distracted for at least a little while.

Watching her face as she entered the room had been all the gratification he needed. He had to admit that there were a whole lot of books packed into that room. After only being allowed to reread the same books for a month, this was probably just what she wanted. Being an avid reader himself, he understood her look of pure joy when she entered the room. It made Draco's heart swell to know that he was the one who had put that expression on her face. He had given her joy for once instead of fear, pain, and hatred. He had never thought the day would come when he would, not only achieve that but also be glad that he did.

Draco was also a little nervous about the outcome of Ginny's quest, not only for her and Hermione, but also for himself. He knew that having any of the Weasleys around would make his life more difficult. He scolded himself. Why was he worried about the inconvenience Hermione's friends being alive would bring him? Was he really that selfish? Hermione loved her parents so much she completely let them go so they could be safe. Even though he and his parents had never held a great relationship, if they ever forgot his existence, it would definitely hurt. He couldn't even imagine what she was going through. It was a brilliant plan though, because they would move on without a care, without any issues. If Hermione were to die, they would never have to grieve. The Dark Lord would have a terrible time trying to find them since she had sent them away under different names. He looked at her with even more respect than he had before. Her selflessness was incredible and told him more than ever that he was far from being who she deserved. She was so good at protecting everybody else but left herself so vulnerable. He wanted to be better. He wanted to be the kind of man who would protect her when she couldn't protect herself, even if it meant something worse for him. Could he ever be like that? He greatly doubted it.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Wow, another chapter! This was going to be a super long one but I ended up cutting out a few parts that didn't seem to fit the character all that great. There wasn't a whole lot happening in this chapter, but the next one will be a big one ;) I hope you enjoyed it! Review and let me know what you think! I am super excited for the next chapter. Some of you will probably love it while others hate it, but oh well. I've been debating with myself what would happen for a while and have made my decision. Duh, duh, duh. You'll have to wait and read in a few days to find out!**


	15. The Gift of a Friend

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling created Harry Potter**

It had been just over two weeks since Ginny had left to find the others who may have survived. There was a slim chance that Ron, George, Neville, and Luna were in hiding somewhere. They hadn't heard anything from Ginny yet and Hermione got more worried with every day that passed and dreaded the possibility of finding out that her worries were justified. She was having a hard time sleeping and had little to no desire to put anything in her stomach, but she knew she had to keep herself healthy for the child that was depending on her for the nutrition it needed to grow. Hermione could tell that Draco was worried as well, though she suspected it was more about her than Ginny or the others. She knew that he had been taught to hate that family, but Hermione had a hard time understanding how anybody could truly hate any of them after spending some time around them.

She had been so grateful that the small library was made available to her. For the first week, it helped a lot, being able to explore all the books that it held, the different sections and genres. As one week turned into two, Hermione could no longer concentrate on anything whole-heartedly.

Hermione sat in an armchair in the sitting room with a book open on her lap, staring blankly at the page. She returned her mind to the words in front of her and groaned when she realized she had just read the same sentence she had been on for the last couple of hours. She had never read this slowly in her life! It was thoroughly frustrating.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted Draco come into the room from the kitchen carrying two glasses of cold Pumpkin juice. He set one down on the coffee table in front of her with a small clink.

"Thanks," she told him, though she did not reach over to pick it up.

Draco had been quite caring and sweet lately and it made her wonder if there was possibly something else growing between them. Hermione told herself that they were friends, and friends cared for each other, but some small part of her hoped that there was something more and that Draco's small actions were proof.

Over the time that Ginny had been gone, Draco had noticed the change in her eating and sleeping habits. He tried to encourage her to eat regularly and always made sure that something was available for her should she want it. Hermione thought this was very nice and made her smile a bit each time he put something else in front of her. It should have been annoying, but instead, she chose to see it as Draco showing that he cared.

Suddenly, a silver horse silently galloped straight through the window to stop between them.

"That's Ginny's Patronus!" Hermione breathed.

"I found them!" Ginny's voice announced through the horse. "We are just outside the wards. Be prepared for a shock Hermione."

Hermione had no idea what that could possibly mean but she was too happy to care. She stood up quickly and tossed the book down on the chair as she rushed to the front door. A hand quickly reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Draco asked her. "I am going to take down the wards. As soon as I do that, it won't be safe anymore out there. You'll see them once they come inside."

Now Hermione was frustrated. How was anybody going to have time to hurt her in the two minutes she'd be outdoors? Plus, it wasn't like she'd be alone, she would be with Ginny and her other friends. Draco obviously wasn't going to let her go. He kept a tight grip on her as he took down the wards and a few moments later put them back up, just in case she decided to make a run for it.

She could hardly control the emotions that had quickly flooded her entire being. Who was out there? Had Ginny found everybody she had mentioned? Had others been captured? Was she only able to bring part of the group?

Draco led her in a controlled manner to the front door. He probably wanted to be close by just in case this was some sort of trap.

The door opened and Draco let go of her arm and retreated back a few paces so he wouldn't be noticed right away.

Hermione froze. She couldn't breathe. She knew there were others who had come as well, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the boy in the middle. This couldn't be real. He couldn't be real. Was this some sort of sick joke?

"Hermione," he spoke. It was his voice, but Hermione stayed glued to the spot.

"It really is him," Ginny assured her, eyes sparkling with emotion.

Finally, the bubble that had seemed to surround her burst and she ran forwards, throwing her arms around the boy, holding him as tightly as possible as if he might disappear. His arms squeezed her back and she buried her face in his shoulder letting the tears flow.

"Harry," she said his name through sobs.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he whispered.

"You… didn't… I thought you were dead. I thought I watched you die," she cried.

"I know and I'm so sorry. To be perfectly honest, I thought I was dead too."

She pulled back so she could see his face. What was he talking about?

"We were wrong, there was another Horcrux after the snake. Apparently, it was me," Harry tried to explain. Hermione was just getting more confused. "When I was a baby and he tried to kill me, a part of his soul was placed inside me. It's why I had that connection with him. When I was hit with the killing curse, he accidently killed the part of his own soul that lived in me. I would have died too had Kingsley not pulled me out and brought me to a safe house. I'm still trying to recover."

At the mention of another person, Hermione looked around to see many more exhausted eyes on her. She feverishly wiped at her eyes to try to keep more tears at bay, but they ended up coming anyway. Standing around smiling at her were Ron, George, Mr. Weasley, Neville, and Luna. Hermione, still slightly crying, went over to hug each person. She had not expected to see Mr. Weasley with them after what Ginny had told her, but she was exceedingly glad he was.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry raise a wand and Ron follow quickly after. She snapped out of her joyous haze when she realized who they were aiming at.

"What's Malfoy doing here?" Harry asked, never taking his eyes off Draco.

"Draco helped us escape!" Hermione told them, slightly panicking.

"Since when has he been 'Draco'?" Ron asked, turning to look at her.

"I can explain everything. It's a lot more complicated than you think. Just please don't hurt him!" Hermione said, thinking of what to do.

Everybody looked thoroughly confused, except Ginny, who just stood there wide eyed and a little awkward. Obviously, she had thought it better to let Hermione explain all this. Hermione knew that Harry and Ron would be the most upset at the news. They were like brothers to her. The others would be okay eventually, but she was extremely worried about what those two boys would do once they found out the truth.

"Can we all just calm down?" she pleaded.

"Hermione, what's doing on?" Harry asked.

"Why don't we go sit down," Ginny suggested.

"I think that's a good idea," Luna agreed, glancing at the trio. "They seem like they have some talking to do."

Hermione flashed Draco an apologetic look and turned to her two friends.

"Let's go somewhere more private," she told them, starting to move up the stairs. The boys followed in silence as she led them to a bedroom and shut the door behind her. "You should sit down," she told them, gesturing to the bed.

"What's going on?" Harry repeated.

"Why are you defending Malfoy?" Ron questioned.

Both boys refused to sit. Hermione released an exasperated sigh.

"A whole lot has happened since the battle. A whole lot has changed," she said.

"But there are some things that don't change," Ron insisted. "He's one of them."

"You should really sit down," Hermione remarked.

"Hermione, you can tell us," Harry told her, placing a hand reassuringly on her arm.

She took a deep breath and started rambling. As quickly as possible so they wouldn't interrupt her, she told them about what had happened at Malfoy Manor. She told them about the torture, about being Voldemort's daughter, about his desire for an heir, about her marriage to Draco, about how they were punished because he was being gracious to her, about how she was pregnant with his child and how Voldemort wants to kill the child because it is not a boy. She told them how Draco risked everything to save her and rescue Ginny. Finally, she came to the end of her story, breathing slightly harder than before.

The two boys stood on the spot in shock before they both sunk down onto the bed.

Harry was silent and Hermione could see his eyes darting from side to side in thought. Finally, he looked up at her.

"You're not his daughter, your muggle-born," Harry insisted calmly.

"No, Harry, it's true. He did some kind of charm that showed the parental bond," Hermione almost whispered.

"He did something to make it do that then. Even when it wasn't real."

"Harry, why would he do that?" she asked softly, coming to sit beside him. Ron seemed too shocked for words. "You don't think I wish it weren't true? I went through those same thoughts."

"And you're…" he couldn't seem to get the word out.

"Pregnant," she murmured.

"And married to Malfoy," Harry continued, trying to understand.

"I'm going to kill him!" Ron suddenly shouted and leaped up off the bed.

"No, Ron-" Hermione started, but was cut off.

"Why not? He… he… forced…" he couldn't say it. Ron's face was contorted somewhere between rage and agony.

"No! It wasn't like that! We both didn't have a choice. We had a bit of time to get to know each other before… I let him! He never hurt me!" she insisted.

"But it's Malfoy!" he blurted as if that was the only evidence needed to prove that he had indeed hurt her.

"He's changed! He's not the same boy we knew in school," she told them.

Ron sat back down. "But he's Malfoy," he continued quieter. "We can fix this. It will be alright. We can fix this, right Harry?"

Harry just looked at her, eyes begging for her to tell him that it was all a joke.

"What if I don't want it fixed," she muttered.

"What do mean you don't want it fixed?" Ron sounded hurt; like he was losing his best friend all over again.

"What if I like things the way they are?" she continued.

"That's rubbish!" Ron yelled

"Hermione, I'm sure there's some way to break a marriage bond," Harry assured her, thinking that was why she had accepted things the way they were.

"I don't want to be fighting with you right now," Hermione said. "Before today, I thought I might never see either of you again. Draco has changed. He saved me and rescued Ginny, leaving behind his entire life. Both his parents will probably be killed for his actions, and part of the reason he was doing all those terrible things in the first place was to save his family. He gave all that up for Ginny and I. I know he is different and nothing you can say will change that. Can we please not fight about this?" Hermione said with a hint of finality.

Something about this made both boys' looks soften towards her.

"We don't want to fight with you either," Harry told her, though Ron looked as though he wanted to talk about this further.

"Thank-you," she said softly. They sat in silence for a few moments before Hermione realized that someone was missing. "Harry, you mentioned that Kingsley saved you. Where is he?" she asked.

"He said he had a lead on where another group of survivors was. He left to find them, but we haven't heard from him since," he explained.

"Oh," Hermione murmured. At least there was a possibility that he was still alive. Plus, there could be hope for others who may have survived the battle.

"Should we go tell the others what's going on?" Harry asked.

"What should I tell them?" Hermione questioned.

"Does it bloody well matter? This whole thing is a horrible mess!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione was a little hurt that he would act this way, but she should have been expecting it. She just hoped he would be able to get over it eventually.

"Tell them everything but the… father… thing," Harry quickly advised. "I still can't believe that myself. You're nothing, nothing, like him Hermione." He looked her right in the eye as he said it almost like he was begging her to believe it.

She gave Harry a small smile. She knew that she was nothing like that monster. Hermione knew that genetics really didn't play a role in personality. The others may not see it that way, though. Would they treat her differently? Would they fear her? Would they believe she was a traitor? Hermione tried to shake the thought from her head. She couldn't think that way! But a small part told her that if she had found out one of her friends was a child of the enemy, she might think differently of them herself. No, she couldn't let that happen. She would keep this secret for as long as possible.

Hermione looked at Harry, who was always too trusting of her, and then to Ron, who could barely meet her eye. She nearly started crying right then. Maybe she shouldn't have even told them. Had she just lost her best friends? She put on a determined face and stood up, getting ready to explain to the others what was going on and desperately hoping Draco had hidden himself away somewhere until she had the chance to do so.

The boys followed her down the stairs and into the sitting room, where the rest of the group waited restlessly. Harry flashed her a reassuring look and she began to tell them of the happenings at the Manor. This time, she decided to emphasize the fact that Draco had never come close to hurting her and had been the one to save her and Ginny. Following Harry's advice, she left out the part about being Voldemort's daughter.

"Well, congratulations," Luna said happily, breaking the silence that followed.

The tears threatened to fall once again. It was the first time somebody had actually been happy for the latest development in her life. She held back the flow once more.

"Thank-you Luna," Hermione told her. Somehow, Luna always had this way of brightening up a dark space. Or warming up a cold atmosphere as it was in the sitting room at that moment.

From then on, people wore tight smiles as they tried to be encouraging. Draco was nowhere to be seen. Part of her was relieved that he wasn't there to be someone to blame for all this, the other part wondered where he had gone to and worried about how he was taking all this.

* * *

Draco sat on the loveseat in the center of the makeshift library. He had been completely shocked to see Potter walk through the door. Wasn't he supposed to be dead? Had it all been a sham to trick the Dark Lord into a false sense of security? Draco had hated Potter more than ever before for what he had done to Hermione. She had been trying to get over his death for months, thinking she had watched him die. Now he just waltzed back in and expected to be just like they were before?

As soon as Hermione had left with the two boys and the others had gone to the sitting room, Draco had disappeared. He decided he wasn't wanted around there for a while, so he had gone to the library to read for a few hours.

He had known the type of reaction he would get when he realized Ginny had actually found people. It had brought him back to feeling like the horrible Death Eater he was to have Potter and Weasel's wands pointed at him. Now that her friends were back in her life did Hermione really need him anymore? Would she want him around anymore? Would he be okay if she didn't? He truly didn't know anymore.

Draco's head snapped up from the book he was reading when he heard the door creak.

"I thought you might have hidden here," Hermione said, walking towards him.

"How did everything go?" he asked.

"I only told Harry and Ron about the father part. Ron didn't take anything very well. Harry was… Harry," she explained with a small smile as she talked about Potter. He wasn't quite sure if what she was saying was a good thing or a bad thing, but he took the smile to mean it wasn't that bad.

"And the others?" he inquired.

"It started out a little tense but Luna sure fixed that," she told him. "Minky's making some food. You should come down and have some."

He looked at her questioningly. What would the others think about sharing a meal with him?

"It'll be fine," she assured him.

Draco put down the book that was on his lap and followed her downstairs into the kitchen. The table had been magically enlarged and the chairs replicated to make space for everybody.

"So, what have you been doing?" Hermione asked the group, sitting beside him. The group seemed to ignore his presence other than the odd glare, which was perfectly alright with him.

"The fact that Harry lives has managed to stay hidden from You-Know-Who and his followers, so that gives us a bit of an edge," Mr. Weasley started to explain as Minky set out plates of food. "We were mostly in hiding. After Bill…we decided to go to their place. Thought the Eaters wouldn't think we would go back there. They didn't. We have been trying to regain strength, find other survivors, put together some sort of army. So far we have been rather, unsuccessful. Ginny finding us had been the best thing to happen to us in a long time."

"Wait. If you were at shell cottage, how did Ginny find you?" Hermione looked to Ginny.

"Well, I went to all the locations you gave me, but they weren't there. So I thought they might have done something like go to Bill and Fleur's," Ginny explained quietly.

"Ginny! We agreed you would come back here if you didn't find them. If the Death Eaters had known about that place it would have been crawling with them! You could have been killed!" Hermione scolded. Draco had to admit, it was a gutsy move.

"I found them, didn't I? And I'm fine. Nothing bad happened," Ginny justified.

"I agree with Hermione on this one. Next time, follow the plan. You got lucky." Mr. Weasley told Ginny, who rolled her eyes.

"So what should we do now?" Neville asked.

"We continue what we have been doing. We train, try to get stronger, try to find others. We have some element of surprise with Harry, so we try to use that." Mr. Weasley explained.

Draco stayed quiet throughout the meal. He didn't want to draw too much attention to his presence there.

That night, Draco was in his and Hermione's bedroom alone, thinking of the events that had happened that day. It was almost like some sort of dream. It didn't seem possible. Hermione was off with Ginny and Luna, doing who knows what, so Draco had some more time to himself.

The door opened and Draco was surprised to see Potter and Weasel enter instead of Hermione. They closed the door behind them. This couldn't be good.

"I think we need to talk," Potter said.

"What did you do to Hermione to get her to act this way?!" Weasel demanded.

"I didn't do anything to her," Draco told them, trying to stay calm.

"You see, we have a hard time believing that anything has changed with you," Potter told him. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course, he should have been expecting this.

"We won't hesitate to get rid of you if anything seems even the least bit off," the Ginger threatened.

Draco stood up to face them. "I'm not going anywhere. I will not leave Hermione or our daughter. Not unless she tells me she doesn't want me around anymore. I have already given up everything to be here. Nothing you could do would make me abandon my family."

"You abandoned your parents, didn't you? Who says you won't do the same thing to Hermione," Potter pointed out.

He felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. He had abandoned his parents. He didn't even know if they were still alive. But what choice did he have? He wasn't going to let the Dark Lord kill his child! And how could Potter judge him for abandoning people when he had practically done the same thing?

"You don't know what it was like, what we went through, what Hermione went through!" Draco yelled, losing control of the things he was saying. "You are so ignorant, only seeing what you want to, what you expect to find. Did you think it was all gumdrops and roses? Do you not realize that the Dark Lord is evil, that he doesn't care that she is his daughter, that he was only using her to get an heir and then would have killed her? He tortured her for not doing exactly what he wanted. I was there! I was the one who held her when she was broken and in pain. I was there and you weren't. Neither of you. Did you even try to find out what had happened to her or did you just move on with your lives? You have no idea. She mourned for you, Potter. She thought you were dead for months. I was there, I held her when she cried. And just when she was beginning to accept that she'd never see you again and move on, you show up like nothing ever happened! You do not get to treat her like you have any say in what she does with her life. It's true what you've said. I don't deserve her care. I haven't changed. She just gave me the courage and the reason to get out. I will not leave, and you will not make me."

Weasley seemed completely shocked while Potter looked like he had just been punched in the gut. Was he feeling more guilt about the situation than he let on? Looking back on what he said, he could see where he had crossed the line. Would he ever stop hurting people? Now he felt guilty again.

Draco took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Have you talked to Ginny about what happened to her?" he asked.

"She won't tell us anything, but she seems okay," Weasley stuttered.

"You're so oblivious! She isn't even close to being fine. A lot of horrible things happened to her. She shouldn't keep it all to herself," he said, starting to get quieter. The guilt he felt about hurting Ginny still ran deep. He wanted her to be okay, if only for his own soul. He knew she needed to talk to somebody about what happened and the two dimwits in front of him were obviously not doing their jobs in helping her.

"Why do you care about her?" Potter asked, genuine curiosity emanating from him.

Maybe if Draco told them the truth about why he cared they would actually do something to help her. It seemed that in anything that concerned him, they were more than willing to help the opposite party.

"Because I was forced to do some of those horrible things to her," he told them with shame dripping in his voice.

Without warning, Potter's fist connected with his face. Draco staggered backward, his hand coming up to his lip, finding blood there. Then it was Weasley smacking Draco back against the wall, forearm pinned to his throat.

"What did you do to her?" he asked in a low, threatening voice.

Draco found that it made him feel better about himself to be beat up like this. Finally, something he deserved. Not hexes either, but good, old-fashioned, emotional fists. And he knew a way to make them even angrier.

"I tortured her," he sneered.

Another punch came from Weasley, making him taste iron.

"You tortured my sister?!" the Ginger yelled and slammed his fist into Draco's face again.

"What's wrong with you!" The shout came from the doorway where a very angry looking Hermione stood.

The arm at Draco's throat slid away as all attention snapped onto her.

"How could you! How can you even be near him? Don't you care about Ginny at all?" Weasley yelled at her.

"He was forced to do it! You-Know-Who would have done much worse to her if he hadn't done what he did-" Hermione was interrupted by Weasley shouting at her again.

"Maybe Harry was wrong! Maybe you're just like him!" All shouting stopped at that statement. Draco couldn't believe that the idiot would say something like that to her.

Tears welled in Hermione's eyes as she stood motionless, defeated by the comment.

"Get out," she whispered.

"Hermione-" Potter tried to say something to save her from the harsh words but she cut him off.

"Get out," she said a little louder and more deliberately.

Draco stood, still against the wall, and looked on at the heartbroken girl as the two boys moved past her. Why did everything he did end up in Hermione getting hurt? Even when he was getting himself hurt, she still managed to get in there. This was all his fault. Why did he have to go and mess everything up?

Hermione moved towards him, wand in her hand, and muttered healing charms over his battered face. That simple action made him feel ten times worse.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he told her. "This is all my fault. It's me who deserves to be hurt, not you."

Tears glistened on her cheeks.

"You don't deserve to be hurt either," she said softly. "You did right by Ginny. She would have lost her mind that night if you hadn't done what he wanted."

Draco was still disgusted with himself.

"Right now, all they see is a Death Eater who tortured their loved one, and me," she sniffed. "who defended you. It just proved all Ron's suspicions to be right. They can both be very stubborn." And with that, she could no longer hold back her sobs and fell against him. Draco wrapped his arms around her as they stood together. He held her tightly as Hermione let out her tears, and cried into his shoulder. He had thought the Weasel had been her friend. Were his emotions so unhinged that he could tell one of his best friends that she was comparable with the most evil wizard Britain had ever seen?

 **Author's Note:**

 **A super big chapter there! So much drama! I hope you liked it. Yes, I decided to bring Harry back from the dead! I have wanted to do this since the beginning but wasn't sure if I should. I decided it was my story and I really wanted to, so there it is. Please make my day wonderful with your beautiful comments and opinions. Reviews sure do mean a lot to me! Thanks for reading!**


	16. To Trust or Not To Trust

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter but I sure wish I did**

Hermione stood in the shower trying to let the horrible feeling in her gut melt away. Last night had been more painful than anything Voldemort could do to her. When Ron had told her she was like him, it was like he had stabbed a knife through her heart. The anger evident in his eyes was blazing with a ferocious intensity. Harry had looked shocked and apologetic, but that didn't make what he had done all better either. She had specifically asked Draco if Harry had hit him as well so she knew that he had. Couldn't either of them just trust her? Hermione had let Draco hold her as she sobbed until she had no tears left to cry; they were all smeared across the front of his robes. Draco had held her that night in bed as well, never leaving her without contact as she slept.

Hermione let the hot water run onto her face, wishing it to allow her to forget. It clearly wasn't doing its job. She stepped from the shower and dried herself off. Instead of getting dressed immediately like she usually did, she paused and looked in the mirror. She couldn't be Voldemort's daughter, yet, here she was. Her hand ghosted over her stomach where a small bump was starting to form. Was Ron right? Deep down, was she as evil as the Dark Lord? Was she as heartless as the man who claimed to be her father? Where did that leave this child? Was it doomed to a dark future even if it grew up in a loving home? She couldn't be carrying the grandchild of the Dark Lord. It just wasn't right. Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. No. She wasn't carrying Voldemort's grandchild, she was carrying the child of her, and Draco.

Finally, the significance of what this meant hit her. Looking at her stomach, she realized that she was going to become a mother. She had had a pretty good mother growing up, could she be the same? The thought of her brought with it a pang of sadness. She wasn't there at her wedding, she wasn't there to announce her pregnancy too, she wasn't going to be there when the baby arrived. Hermione was on her own in this. Sure she had Ginny and Luna, but they weren't mothers.

Then another thought crossed her mind. How was she supposed to bring a little girl into a world that was plagued by darkness, evil, and fear? How would she be able to be a child with the war going on? It wasn't like she could defend herself. How long would this war last? Would her daughter grow up on the run, never knowing how wonderful the world had the potential to be again? Hermione knew she had to stop herself from thinking this way. She needed to stay positive, have hope that they could still win, hope that the world would be a happy place again one day.

There was a difference between her and her 'father'. She could love, she could hope, she had the potential to be happy. She had to hold onto those things, hold onto the belief that she wasn't evil, that she had the power to stop Voldemort before things got any worse. She would train, even if Ron didn't believe she was still who she used to be, she could prove him wrong. She would show him that it didn't matter who her biological father was, Hermione would always be the muggle-born witch she always was.

With that thought in mind, Hermione dressed into her day robes and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

"Hermione wait!" Harry called after her as she walked down the hall towards the stairs.

She stopped but didn't turn around.

"Please just hear me out. I'm really sorry for what happened last night. I went to confront Malfoy to protect you. I wanted to make sure he wasn't threatening you or hurting you. I, I couldn't see possibility of Malfoy changing. He said he hurt Ginny and I snapped. It made more sense after you tried to explain. Vold-You-Know-Who is evil. Malfoy probably did save her from something much worse. It took me almost all night of thinking about it to realize that," he explained. Hermione turned around to look at him. His eyes begged for understanding and forgiveness. "I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I can't even imagine what it must have been like for you. Please believe what I said that you are nothing like him," Harry came closer to her and took her hands in his. "I don't want to lose you again because I was an idiot. I know that Ron didn't mean what he said, he was in shock about everything. I'm not making excuses for him, but I know he is sorry too," he finished.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, pulling him into a hug.

"I don't want to lose you because you were an idiot either. You were, very much an idiot. I forgive you though. You should really apologize to Draco for hitting him. I know he beats himself up over what happened to Ginny every day. He might not accept your apology if you decided to give one because he thinks he deserved to get hit," Hermione told him.

Harry gave her a smile. "Maybe I'll try." She smiled back. "What about Ron?" he asked, causing Hermione's smile to disappear.

"I appreciate that you are trying to keep our friendship together, but he really needs to tell me himself," she said.

"I thought you might say that," Harry muttered sheepishly.

Hermione pulled him into another hug. "You should really talk to Ginny. You still don't seem completely convinced, and she needs to talk to somebody. I'd like to think you'd want to be there for her at a time like this."

"Of course, I do. I will, I'll talk to her," he agreed.

"Let's go down and get some breakfast," she suggested.

* * *

Later that day, the group started training. This consisted of mostly dueling and practice, but things kept snapping back to Draco. Obviously, the news had gotten around about what had happened between him and Ginny, and the Weasleys, specifically Ron and George wanted revenge. Even Neville seemed to have it out for him. It seemed that those two had become closer friends over the past year. Harry stood off to the side, looking from Hermione to Draco, as if he really wanted to get in on hexing him, but didn't want Hermione to be angry with him. They wanted to duel with Draco simply for the purpose of getting the chance to throw curses and hexes at him. Hermione was impressed with how Draco was able to fend off the onslaught, but things were going too far.

Hermione, Ginny, and Luna managed to position themselves between the three boys and the out of breath Draco.

"What's wrong with you?!" Ginny screamed.

"I thought you got your anger out last night Ron!" Hermione yelled.

"No way! Malfoy deserves every hex he receives!" Ron countered.

"What happened last night?" Ginny questioned.

"Harry and Ron attacked Draco," Hermione told her quietly.

"You did what?!" she yelled. She pointed her wand at Ron and he flew backward across the grass, hit in the shoulder with a stinging hex and cried out in pain.

"Can everyone calm down please?" Luna asked as though talking to small children.

"Ginny, what are you doing? Why are you protecting him? After everything he's done to you?" George asked.

"Everything he's done to me?" Ginny looked over to Hermione. "They found out about the incident didn't they."

Hermione nodded and Ginny sighed.

"What in Merlin's name is going on out here?" Mr. Weasley asked, coming outside after getting a glass of water.

"Ginny hexed me!" Ron yelled, still on the ground.

"Ron attacked Malfoy. Twice now!" Ginny threw back.

"Enough of this! We're not going to stand a chance if we start killing each other!" Hermione was slightly surprised at Mr. Weasley's sternness. He usually let Molly do the yelling. She guessed now, he had to step up and keep the kids in line. "This isn't working," he muttered.

Stepping from between the two parties, Hermione walked over to Mr. Weasley.

"We can't train like this. It has to be more organized, somebody needs to take the position as a teacher," she suggested, hearing shouting still going on behind them.

"Yes, I have been thinking the same for a bit now."

"I think Draco should do it."

"Now Hermione, do you really think that is a good idea?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"It might be tough on some people, but they need to get over it. Draco knows the types of spells we would be up against. He has probably cast them himself before or at least been exposed to them. We need to learn things that will actually help us when fighting a Death Eater. What better than to be taught by a former one?" she explained. Hermione could see how this would be extremely difficult on some, but maybe they could talk to Ginny. They seem to be much more worried about what happened to her than anything else.

"I agree with you, but I don't think anyone would listen to him."

She thought about that. If somebody else was also teaching, would that help? "If you taught with him, the others would trust you, wouldn't they?" Hermione suggested.

"Maybe, but I'm not a professor. I don't teach," he started.

"You're a father. You've taught them a lot already," she pointed out.

"Right, well, what about Harry?" he asked.

"Harry is still recovering and needs to train himself."

"Ah, I see."

"Will you at least try?"

He sighed. "Alright," he agreed.

Hermione tried to convince herself that this would be a good thing, but she couldn't help thinking that the boys might react quite negatively to this suggestion.

"I do want to talk to Draco about it first," she added. Mr. Weasley nodded in agreement.

Training was cancelled for the day after that and Hermione took Draco aside before going back into the cottage.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Never been better," he replied somewhat sarcastically.

"Draco, I'm serious."

"Hermione I'm fine," he assured her. "What were you talking to Mr. Wealsey about?"

"That's what I have to talk with you about." She took a deep breath. He probably wouldn't like this. "I think there needs to be some organization to this training and somebody to lead it, like a teacher. I think you should teach it," she said simply.

"Are you insane? I think they would kill me first," he told her.

"Mr. Weasley agreed to help with the others. He would be leading it with you."

"Doesn't he hate me too?" he said.

"No Draco. The others, they just don't understand. You have experience with the types of spells and curses we will be facing. We need you, even if the others don't see it that way."

"I-I can't. You saw them today. I shouldn't even be included in the training let alone teaching it."

"Draco, please. Use the time you spent as a Death Eater for good," Hermione told him. She seemed to have hit something with that statement. "For me," she added.

"I'll try," he reluctantly agreed. Hermione smiled and pulled him into a hug. "If one of them kills me though, it's on you."

* * *

Inside, Harry took this extra time to pull Ginny into the bedroom he and Ron shared and closed the door. Ginny sat down on the bed and Harry went to sit down beside her.

"We have to talk," he started.

"I know," Ginny replied. "Hermione says you attacked Malfoy last night."

"He told me he hurt you, and I snapped. I know I was an idiot," he told her.

"Yes, you were," she agreed.

"How are you, really?" he asked.

Ginny sighed and looked up at him sadly. "I'm… better than I was. It's hard," she told him.

Harry couldn't imagine what she was going through, but was glad she was being truthful with him instead of the 'I'm fine' she had previously told everybody.

When he had heard what had happened to her from the others, that she had been taken, he had been beside himself. He couldn't even go after her because he was still extremely weak from his near death experience. He could only guess the kinds of things they were doing to her and he couldn't do anything to stop it. When she had shown up at shell cottage, it had been hard to keep himself from breaking down. He didn't think he would ever see her again, but there she was. He knew there was a lot she wasn't telling them. He knew that the Death Eaters would have done horrific things to her, but she was writing it off as nothing. Harry could also see how much thinner she was than when he had last seen her.

"If you want to tell me what happened, I'm here for you," he told her. She smiled slightly. "I do want to know how you see Malfoy. Are you okay with being in this place with him here?"

Ginny took a deep breath before answering. "I was pretty out of it at the time. I had already been tortured for weeks, but I do know that without Malfoy, I wouldn't be here right now," she explained. "Yes, he tortured me, but he didn't really mean it so it was much less painful than the others. You-Know-Who had threatened to torture me into insanity like the Longbottoms if he didn't. I was afraid of him at first, but then I saw him with Hermione and the remorse he still has for what happened written all over his face when he even looks at me and knew he wouldn't hurt me again. He isn't the same boy we thought we knew in school. The war has changed everybody."

Hearing Ginny talk about the suffering she went through was actually painful for Harry, even though she was pretty vague. It killed him that he wasn't able to be there for her when she needed him, that he couldn't protect her no matter how much he wanted to, that she had to go through all that suffering alone. But hearing her talk of Malfoy like that, the man who had tortured her, made him think. The part of him that believed Hermione had been right. Maybe he should give him another chance to redeem himself.

Harry had thought Malfoy was a pompous git who never cared about anybody but himself, but lately, he seemed to be making a lot of selfless choices. What had changed? It was much more difficult to change sides now that the light was somewhat diminished, but Malfoy seemed to have done just that without any obvious gains to himself. Could the two girls Harry cherished most in the world be right?

He was still getting over Hermione's situation and he hated to think of all the things she was forced into. It was hard not to blame Malfoy for a lot of it. It was hard to think of Hermione just letting everything happen with him like that. She was pregnant and she insisted that he hadn't forced her. What did that mean about their relationship? Was it more than friends? He almost shuddered at the thought.

"So you're good with him staying here?" he clarified.

"Yes, Harry. He saved me."

"That's all I need to know," he paused. "I don't really know where we stand anymore, but I'll always be there for you, from now on. If you ever need to talk about anything, I'll be here."

Without another word, Ginny curled up against him, letting him hold her close. Harry closed his eyes, wishing the moment would never end.

 **Author's Note:**

 **This chapter was a little hard to write, a lot of talking and not all that much action. I know how I want to end this story, but I am having some troubles figuring out how they get there. Hopefully, this chapter was okay, a little short. I'm getting my wisdom teeth taken out tomorrow so I'm not sure when I will be able to update again. Give me some reviews to make me happier! I don't want to go in for oral surgery! Cheer me up with your wonderful opinions! Thanks for reading!**


	17. Words Can't Make The Hurt Go Away

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is still the creator of Harry Potter, not me**

The boys had been furious about the decision to have Draco teach the training sessions. Draco had expected this, he had expected the single sided yelling match that followed, the insults and insinuations that had been thrown his way. What he hadn't expected was Mr. Weasley fighting _for_ him instead of against him. Draco couldn't understand why the man would stand up for somebody who had tortured his daughter. Somehow, he had managed to calm the raging boys into a much more stable state. They were obviously not okay with giving Draco that kind of authority over them. Draco, a teacher. He had to admit that he was more qualified to be teaching the specific things they would be facing, but still, he wasn't even sure about the idea himself. He had always despised these people and now he was expected to train them to fight what he used to be. Who would have thought Hermione would come up with a plan so brilliant and ridiculous that he couldn't disagree?

"Draco," Mr. Weasley said, pulling him aside before they were about to teach their first session. "I apologize for the boys' behavior. I know you can do some good here."

Draco was confused. "Why? You should hate me more than anybody."

"I know that you did what you had to do to protect my Ginny, even though you didn't like her," he explained. "I know that you are the only reason that my daughter is here now. When she was taken and I was just stunned and left there in the forest, I thought she would have been better off dead than in the hands of the Death Eaters, and I was probably right. But you sent your elf to save her, you healed her and helped her. I am so grateful. Because of you, my daughter's horrifying reality is now only a nightmare that she has the privilege of waking up from."

"But I hurt her," he pointed out shamefully.

"You did what you had to. I understand that You-Know-Who would have done much worse."

"And it was really Hermione who insisted on rescuing her," Draco tried to tell him, but Mr. Weasley just smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"One other thing," the older man added. "Hermione is a wonderful girl and you need to treat her right. You had better not hurt her or you will have another enemy," he warned.

"I won't," Draco agreed, clearing his throat.

He was shocked at the short conversation he just had. Mr. Weasley wasn't nearly as horrible as his parents had made him out to be. Hermione was a wonderful girl, too pure for her own good. He would never purposefully hurt her, but he always ended up doing just that and it made him sick to think about. He wasn't in love with her. Love was something else altogether. Just because his stomach became an acrobat whenever he touched her or that her smile made him exponentially warmer inside, didn't mean he was in love with her. He just cared about her. They were friends. He needed to be by her side because she was going to have his daughter.

Mr. Weasley gave him an affectionate slap on the back. "Let's go get this first session over with," he said. Draco nodded his head in agreement, though he wanted nothing more than to stay inside and lock himself in his bedroom. Why had he agreed to this again? Hermione. Hermione and her inarguable logic. Hermione with her pleading eyes that he could not find it in himself to disappoint again.

Taking a deep breath, Draco followed Mr. Weasley outside to the grassy field where the others were waiting, face hard as stone. When he saw Hermione standing there, he sent her a subtle wink and she smiled back at him.

"I know this is going to be hard for you, but try to listen to Draco today. Whether you believe it or not, he is our best hope of this ending well for any of us," Mr. Weasley announced.

"Okay," Draco started. "No more of this Light Magic crap. Sure it has a time and place, but the Death Eaters aren't going to be tossing Expelliarmuses at you. They will more likely send a killing curse or other forms of Dark Magic." He could already see that he had lost the boys with that. Of course, they didn't want to be learning Dark Magic. "Magic itself can't be evil you idiots! The witch or wizard who wields it can be, but Light and Dark magic are just different. It can be used offensively or defensively, but it gives one control and can cause more harm to those pursuing you. It can give you more time to escape, lessen the numbers of the other side. The Death Eaters are evil, but the magic they wield is simply magic. So show me what you can do."

Looking around, he saw the doubt in most of the eyes that were trained on him, searching for assurance from Mr. Weasley. Hermione continued to smile at him and Draco could see the pride in her eyes. It made courage well up inside of him to know that she was proud of him for just saying a few words.

"The boy is right," the man told them. "Listen."

"Pair up and begin dueling. Light magic has its time but now is not it. Don't worry about harming each other too badly. You have to really mean them for it to do much," he told them.

Mr. Weasley nodded and hesitantly, the small group began nervous duels. Draco paced between the dueling pairs to help and correct the spell work. Most of his attention was spent on Hermione though. He was worried about what would happen if something went wrong during this training. Dark Magic could be dangerous if used incorrectly. If something were to happen to her or the baby under his supervision, he would never forgive himself. He wanted nothing more than for her not to participate but knew she wouldn't listen to him on that matter. Draco also knew that she needed to be able to protect herself as well.

From then on, a routine was made. Each day consisted of times for meals, training, and resting. At first, they began to tire extremely quickly so a great deal of rest was necessary, but they grew stronger every day. It was hard for Draco to get the others to listen to him or get any respect from them. There were insults flown at him from every side, but he was learning not to care too much. Mr. Weasley tried to help as much as he could. It would have been a lot worse without his support so Draco was thankful to the older man. The group was learning, some faster than others and some more reluctantly, but learning all the same. He never thought he, Draco Malfoy, would ever be teaching the Golden Trio, among others, how to wield Dark Magic.

* * *

Time seemed to go by in the blink of an eye and soon it was mid-August. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna sat around the kitchen table drinking some cold pumpkin juice while the boys were off doing who knew what.

"What's going on between you and Ron?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked down at her hands as they wrapped nervously around her glass. "He told me I was like You-Know-Who," she said quietly.

"He didn't!" Ginny was shocked.

Hermione nodded. "He won't even look at me," she told the two girls sadly.

"Emotions can be very controlling, but not hold a whole lot of truth. He couldn't have possibly meant that," Luna assured her.

"I don't know. He hasn't apologized," Hermione explained doubtfully.

"How long ago did he say that to you? You know how hard it can be for him to man up to his actions," Ginny asked, the anger growing in her voice.

"A few weeks ago. The night he and Harry attacked Draco," she replied.

"That long ago? He'll get over himself sooner or later, but until he does, he is going to experience my wrath. He can't go around telling his friends things like that!" Ginny explained standing up from the table.

Hermione chuckled a bit and put a hand on Ginny's shoulder to settle her down. "Thanks, Ginny, but I don't need you going off and injuring your brother for me right now. I know he can be a stubborn idiot. How are you and Harry doing?" she asked, changing the subject.

"You're changing the subject!" she accused. Hermione gave her a pleading look and she sighed. "Fine. I'm honestly not sure. I know we still care about each other, but I don't think either of us is really sure where we stand," she told them. "It is getting better though," she added, a light blush coming to her cheeks.

"Love can be very confusing," Luna said.

"I think everybody can agree to that," Hermione remarked. "Now Ginny, you can't just leave it there."

"Well, a few weeks ago, Harry came to talk to me, probably to get a better read on Malfoy, but he was really sweet. I could tell that he wanted to be there for me," she replied. "We also cuddled for a little while."

"Oh, Ginny!" Hermione chimed. "That sounds promising." Ginny blushed again.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, it's good to have somebody," Luna assured her.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and looked at her suspiciously. "Is there something we should know about?" she inquired.

"Well, Neville and I have been getting to know each other a little better recently," she told them absentmindedly. "He's nice."

Hermione giggled. "So, you and Neville," she smirked.

"Maybe, maybe not. Love is a confusing thing. Draco would probably agree."

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, let's talk about you and Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

"Draco and I are friends," she insisted.

"Oh, Hermione. Everybody can tell there is something more between you two than that," Luna pointed out.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"The way you look at each other, it's like you have both fallen in love but won't admit it!" Ginny said, laughing.

"We are not in love!" Hermione denied though she could tell that something was different between them lately. "We are friends and we care about each other. That is all."

"You like him!" Ginny sang. "Malfoy and I might not be the greatest of friends still, but I do think you are good for each other."

"What are you on about-"

"Just hear me out! He can intellectually challenge you, you understand him better than anybody else here is able to, he is the father of your unborn child, and he obviously cares about you," she explained. "And you care about him," she added. "He needs the type of forgiveness only you, Hermione, can give him to fix his damaged soul. You need each other."

"Ginny, he doesn't want anything more than a friendship," Hermione said in an exasperated voice, partially to herself. "Plus, I have more important things to think about right now."

"What's more important than love?" Luna asked.

"I'm becoming a mother," Hermione pointed out. "How am I supposed to bring a child into the midst of this?" She looked Ginny in the eye. She understood her fear of the child's grandfather being Voldemort.

"It will be alright," she assured her.

"Again, how can you know these things?" she asked her friend incredulously.

"Because you have all of us on your side," Ginny told her.

"You aren't all on your own you know," Luna said.

Hermione smiled at her friends. "Thanks."

* * *

Later that week, Hermione once again sat outside in the chairs behind the cottage. The sun was setting, changing the colour of the clouds hovering over the horizon. This had become a nightly routine for her; sitting outdoors and admiring the beauty in the world that no longer had very much to spare, feeling the change in the air as it turned from warm sun to cool night, thinking too much about how she had gotten to where she was now. She remembered the first time she had sat out there with Ginny. So much had changed since then. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she was preparing to say goodbye to one of her best friends, worrying that she would never come back. Now, Hermione had been given her friends back, was learning the Dark Arts from Draco, who was also teaching the rest of their minuscule army, she was keeping secrets from people she cared about and had probably lost Ron because she had told him that secret. Sitting out in that spot gave Hermione back some sort of the peace that her life seemed to lose each and every day.

"Hey."

Hermione whipped her head around to face the unexpected voice as he sat down beside her.

"Hey," she whispered back.

"I-I'm sorry," Ron stuttered.

"That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"You are so…can't you even try to make up for what you did? Simply saying you're sorry doesn't cut it, Ronald. Saying you're sorry doesn't suddenly fix what you did," she told him.

Ron took a deep breath. "I know. I'm an idiot. I know what I said to you was horrible and now I don't know how to fix it. I miss you. A lot. And I have been too much of a coward to do anything about it," he tried to explain. That did sound very Ron-like, to just avoid the problem and hope it goes away on its own. "I might have been wrong," he continued. "About Malfoy. I've seen how he looks at you, how he cares for you, and Ginny defended him too. I guess I was so caught up in everything that happened in the past to see what was right in front of me."

Hermione opened her mouth to interrupt him but he continued.

"I know it's no excuse for what I did, but I want you to understand that all I saw when I looked at him was the same boy who made our lives miserable in school and who called you that terrible name that made my blood boil. I had already thought that he was that same guy and that he was just using you when he told me that he tortured my sister. It all hit me so hard and I couldn't control what I was saying. All I saw was that he hurt Ginny and you were defending him and I messed up. I didn't mean what I said. Nobody could possibly think you are anything like You-Know-Who. I guess I wanted you to hurt a bit for what happened to my sister. I didn't stop to think that you were a victim in this too. I really am sorry. I understand if you can't forgive me now. Now I see how bad what I said really was. I don't care who's daughter you are," he hesitated for a moment. "I don't care who you're married to, or who's baby you're carrying. All I care about is you and I want to be friends again."

Hermione was silent. A few tears dripped down her face but she wiped them away quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice. She had missed Ron too, but every time she even thought of him, all she could think about was what he had said. She looked at him. He was literally leaning off the end of the chair, wringing his hands together nervously, and watching her intently. He was being truly sincere. It had been so long since he had even acted like she was a person. She could see the pain in his eyes as he tried to gain back his friend. Hermione was finally getting what she had hoped for every morning as she got ready for her day; that Ron would come to his senses and understand the significance of his words and actions of that night so long ago.

"I missed you so much," she said, trying to keep her emotions in check. "You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you to come talk to me about this. It is going to take me a little while to get over what you said. That isn't something you say to anybody let alone a friend. But I do miss you and I want to go back to being friends. I will forgive you…eventually. Why, why did it take you so long?"

"Because I was ashamed. I didn't think that I could hurt someone I cared about like that and it was hard to realize that I had. I think I might understand Malfoy's feeling of guilt a bit more, and I hadn't been forced to say those things to you, I said them on my own and it made it even worse. I thought you might not want me back after I said that, that I hurt you too badly, but that's what I am asking you to do." Ron stood up from his chair and Hermione stood up as well, immediately pulling him into a hug.

"I missed you so much, you idiot," she told him as he wrapped his long arms around her, holding her in a tight Ron hug that she had been longing for.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Sorry this chapter took so long! I had my surgery a couple days ago. It went well and I no longer have my wisdom teeth! Down side, I have been exhausted and in pain for the past couple of days. But here it is, chapter 17, YAY! Thank you to everybody who reviewed for the previous chapter, I appreciate it soooo much! I love you guys, you are super awesome and inspire me to keep writing even when I am slightly high on pain meds. Give me some more reviews and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!**


	18. Why We Do The Things We Do

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling still owns the wonders of Harry Potter**

 _At the Manor_

Voldemort paced across the study, waiting for the weekly report on the search for Draco and Hermione Malfoy. Like it had been each week before, he expected this report to be a waste of his time, with no new information. The frustration built every single day. How could they have escaped from right beneath his very eyes? How could _he_ have let them escape? That useless house elf had disapparated with them. How dare she think she can disobey Lord Voldemort! A lesser being!

And Narcissa Malfoy. Why was he repeatedly stumped by loving mothers? Somehow, she had managed to erase all records of any land the Malfoy's owned, protecting the location of her son and his daughter. Didn't she know she would be killed for that? What was it with mothers and sacrificing themselves to protect their children, even when they deserved to be cast out, deserved to be killed! Voldemort didn't understand this love. He had found out that he had a daughter and he was going to get an heir out of her, or she was going to die, along with the female baby she was carrying. Why would he protect his child when she had been a part of the Order, attempting to destroy him, when she had disobeyed him, when she had used occlumency and blocked him from seeing into her mind? Did she have no respect, no fear?

Narcissa Malfoy had practically placed herself in the aim of his killing curse. It wasn't as if she was a great loss. She was pitiful, disgusting, going against her Lord like that. She was smart enough to know what she had needed to do to keep herself alive. If she had helped in the search for her son, shown the proper distaste for the violation that had been committed, she would have been spared. But she had decided to go against him, and knew what the consequences would entail. Death. Lucius had also been killed, but that was simply a long time coming anyway. He had been deserving of death ever since he had let the Dark Lord's diary, his Horcrux, a part of his soul, be destroyed. He had thought he could keep him under a watchful eye, that he could be controlled, but Lucius Malfoy just kept disappointing. Even at the end, he was no help in locating his missing son. Lucius had begged for his life, begged for Voldemort not to kill him. The Dark Lord would have found it entertaining had he not been so annoyed, frustrated, and angry.

Finally, the group of followers who had been sent out to search for the young Malfoys entered his presence and the leader stood forwards, visibly shaking.

"My Lord," he began. "I bring some news. We discovered a magical flutter and believe something or someone to be concealed in the area. We think the Malfoys and the other girl are there."

"You _believe_ they are there? If you just _believe_ they are all here in this very room, does that make them here?!" Voldemort yelled.

"N-no m-my Lord," he stammered.

"Do you have any proof that they are there?" the Dark Lord asked.

"N-not yet," the man said in a fearful voice.

"It could be anybody who is on the run. I am strictly focused on finding those three traitors. Do not get distracted, get proof before bringing me any news." Voldemort raised his wand at the cowering wizard in front of him. "Crucio!" he yelled. The man fell to the floor, screaming and convulsing in pain. He lifted the curse for a moment to let the man recover his mind briefly before cursing him again. Lessons needed to be learned and he was more than willing to deal out punishments. "Go. Get out of my sight and return to me when you have proof of who or what is concealed in that area," he ordered after cursing him a third time.

Trembling, the Death Eater stood and left Voldemort's presence. He wondered why it seemed that all of his followers were so stupid! Could they not think for themselves? Did they not care if they were punished? Did they not want their Lord to be pleased? Voldemort went back to pacing. Maybe he should have controlled himself enough to keep Narcissa Malfoy alive, even though she clearly deserved to die. He could have gotten the information out of her eventually. With enough torture, even the most loving mother would break sooner or later. He could have found them by now. He took a calming breath. He would find them, no matter how long it took.

Because of his mother's sacrifice, simply killing the young Draco Malfoy was somewhat complicated. Though he didn't understand it, Voldemort had quite a bit of experience with the power of sacrificial love. No matter, he would still make the boy suffer once he found him. Make him spend the rest of his days in the dungeons, force him to watch his wife and daughter be tortured and killed, be tortured himself, the boy would be punished, even if he couldn't be killed. It was somewhat entertaining to think of the different scenarios.

Things would fall into place. Lord Voldemort always got what he wanted, no matter how long he had to wait. He was a patient man after all.

 _At the Cottage_

Training was getting better each week that passed. They were forced to take fewer resting periods, and more was accomplished per session. Draco was pleased with how the small group was progressing.

That day, something strange had happened and Draco did not know how it had occurred or what it meant. Someone had dodged a spell and it had hit the wards. Normally, nothing would have happened, but today, something was different. It was as though the spell rippled through the wards, pulsing the surge of magical energy outward along the edge of the property before disappearing. Was this something he should be worried about? Draco wasn't sure. If someone was specifically looking for them in the area, would they have seen this surge on the opposite side of the wards? Certainly, if somebody had found their location, they would have already attacked. Wouldn't they have? Draco trusted in the wards he had put up around the cottage. Nobody was going to get through them unless Draco knew about it. It was very strange, though.

"Happy birthday Hermione." Draco's head snapped up as he overheard Harry talking to Hermione. Was it really her birthday already? What was the date? September 19th. He did remember something about her birthday being in September. Draco wanted to do something for her other than just wish her a happy birthday, though, he couldn't think of what would possibly work. What would she even want? Surely she wanted more than just two words of acknowledgement. He wanted to give her a gift, but he had no idea how he could get her anything, it wasn't like he could just walk into Diagon Alley and purchase something. He was being hunted. He had to think of something that would make today special.

For the next couple hours, Draco isolated himself from the group, trying to get some peace and quiet so he could actually hear himself think. Why did he even want to do something like this for her? It was something he could do that had the potential to make her happy. Draco remembered the look of joy on Hermione's face when he had first shown her the makeshift library. The large grin, sparkling eyes, cute little twitches of excitement and awe. It had made him feel good himself to know that he had made her feel that way, that he had given her that joy. More than anything, he wanted to give her that look of joy, that feeling of happiness, on her birthday. After all the times he had managed to hurt her, he wanted to do one more thing to make her smile.

Draco thought, and he thought hard. What could he do to make her happy? What could he possibly give her? He was looking around at his surroundings, hoping to stumble upon an idea when it hit him. He had magic. He didn't have to buy a gift for Hermione, he could make one. Finally, Draco had an idea. He just hoped he would finish in time and that Hermione would like it.

Now that he had in mind what he wanted to do, Draco had to search throughout the cottage to find the supplies he needed to make it perfect. He even enlisted the help of Minky to find what was necessary, under strict orders not to let anyone else find out what he searched for. The little elf had eagerly agreed and went off look for what Draco had asked of her.

By the time the gift was finished and Draco was happy with it, it was almost time for bed. He placed it in a plain, small box and headed upstairs, trying to contain his nervous excitement. He felt like a small boy at Christmas time, except, instead of being excited about receiving a gift, Draco Malfoy couldn't wait to give one. He wanted to see Hermione's reaction to his work. If she liked it, that would be enough of a gift for him.

* * *

It had been a long day, and Hermione was exhausted. Today was her nineteenth birthday, but she wasn't sure there was really anything to be celebrating. The war was still going on, Voldemort was still in power, and he was still her father. Maybe next year or the year after she would want to celebrate again. Once everything was over and life went back to being wonderful again, then she could acknowledge the simple happiness of having another year of living.

Hermione had found it odd that after the last training session of the day had ended, she had only caught glimpses of Draco. He wasn't in normal places either. Everybody else had wished her a happy birthday. He must have overheard someone and not wanted to deal with something so trivial at a time like this. Surely, he was avoiding her. Hermione told herself that she was perfectly alright with that. She agreed that a birthday was practically nothing compared to everything else that was going on, but a part of her couldn't help feeling a little hurt. She reminded herself who she was dealing with. It was Draco Malfoy, who couldn't stop for one second to think of anything but the main task ahead. All large missions fell precedent to smaller things. He was just as stubborn as the other boys, though in a slightly different way.

She sighed and decided to get ready for bed. Hermione took a quick shower and changed into some night clothes before making her way back to the bedroom. She was more than a little surprised to see Draco standing in front of her with one arm behind his back and a lopsided semi-smile on his face.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Happy birthday," he said, and brought his hand out from behind him, holding out a small, brownish grey box. "Take it," he added, showing his childish excitement.

Hermione reached out and took the box from his hand, turning it over in her fingers. Draco had given her a gift? She couldn't help the smile and blush that was already spreading across her face. Slowly, she lifted the lid off the box and her eyes widened as she saw what was inside.

Gently, Hermione lifted the necklace from the box. It was a thin, silver-like string with a small wooden carving of a dragon hanging from the end.

"Did you make this?" she asked.

"Yes," he told her softly.

That explained why she hadn't seen him since training and why he had been in all those strange places. He wasn't avoiding her he was making her this gift.

"It's beautiful," she whispered in awe, carefully examining every inch of the wooden pendant's intricate design with the tips of her fingers. It was a dragon, the majestic, magical creature that Draco had been named after.

Hermione looked up at Draco who was simply beaming at her. Her smile turned into a full grin of delight. She never thought that she would receive a gift today. She had expected a few kind words, some statements of 'happy birthday', but never a gift. They had too many other things to worry about, not to mention not being able to get to a store to buy anything. But Draco had to be so sweet and make her a gift. She wasn't really the type of girl to wear jewelry very often, let alone on a daily basis. But this necklace was different. It wasn't elaborate, expensive, or fancy, but small, light, and probably something she would appreciate more than anything he could have bought.

"Thank-you," she said.

"You're welcome," Draco replied somewhat awkwardly.

Hermione had the sudden urge to put the necklace on and never take it off; leave it to hang right over her heart where it seemed it was supposed to be.

"Will you help me put it on?" she asked.

Draco nodded and moved so he was behind her. Hermione handed him the necklace and he gently draped it over the front of her neck and fasten it in the back so the pendant hung just above the center of her chest.

"Thank-you," she repeated, turning to face him.

Hermione couldn't contain her wide smile, nor the huge blush that she knew had covered her features. Quickly, she pulled Draco into a tight hug, hiding her pink cheeks in his shoulder.

"I love it," she told him.

That night, Hermione couldn't sleep. Even though she had been so exhausted getting ready for bed, the gift Draco had given her had blasted any fatigue she had felt into oblivion. She lay under the covers, fingering the wooden dragon that still rested around her neck, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Was she wrong? Was there something more than friendship growing between her and Draco? She knew that she had felt something different in that moment. Something she hadn't experienced before and couldn't quite understand. Seeing the childish excitement etched onto Draco's normally hard and masked face was definitely something new. Somehow, she couldn't get the image out of her head and each time she thought of it, her smile grew even larger.

 **Author's Note:**

 **So, there's chapter 18! It's a little dark, a little cute, I really enjoyed writing it. Not exactly sure how it turned out because I was still on pain meds when I wrote it but I hope it's okay and I hope you like it! Please review! It makes me really happy to hear your wonderful opinions and know that you took the time to write something. Thanks for reading!**


	19. Fear of the Unknown

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, everything else belongs to JK Rowling**

 _Hermione's eyes popped open. It was dark. Hermione's heart thumped in her chest, seemingly louder than it should have been, screaming at her that something was very wrong. She looked around for anything that could tell her what was going on. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, an even greater sense of confusion settled over her. She was no longer at the cottage, but in a large, nearly empty bedroom containing the bed she lay in and a single door across from it._

 _A slight movement beside her caught Hermione's eye. Pale skin, platinum blonde hair, Draco was in the bed beside her._

 _"Draco!" she whispered, trying to wake him up to ask what was going on. "Draco!" she called again, this time, louder. For some reason, he stayed still. She poked his shoulder, then began shaking it, fear gripping her. "Draco! Wake up!" she yelled in a desperate panic. Why wouldn't he wake up? He was breathing, he looked alright, so why was he still asleep? Where was she?_

 _That was when she heard the crying. It was a baby, and somehow, Hermione knew that it was hers. Immediately, she jumped out of the strange bed and moved towards the door, which opened before she had even fully reached it. The crying became louder. On either side of the door was an extremely long, dark hallway that seemed to go on forever in either direction. Along it were no signs of anything but a stark grey tunnel-like wall that made Hermione feel slightly claustrophobic. She glanced behind her, wishing that Draco would suddenly appear, but was shocked to find that even that door had disappeared. The only option was to move down the hallway. The crying sounded as though it was coming from the left, so Hermione headed in that direction, hoping that she would soon get to her baby._

 _Suddenly, the crying stopped. Hermione's eyes went wide. What had happened to her baby? With trembling limbs, she broke into a full out sprint down the hallway, though it did not seem that she was getting any closer to the end. Did it even have an end? She had to get to her baby! Hermione ran faster, until her legs burned and her lungs ached for air, but still, it seemed as though she were hardly moving._

 _Hermione was now crying silently from frustration and fear. Where was she? Where was everybody else? What was going on? Why wasn't she getting anywhere? Why had her baby suddenly stopped crying? She could do nothing more than keep running and hope that she was actually moving, hope that somehow, she would reach her daughter in time. In time for what? What was going to happen? Hermione didn't know. What she was sure of was that something terrible was going on and she had to get to her baby._

 _Frantically, she sprinted as fast as she possibly could, pouring every last ounce of energy into her muscles, willing them to move faster._

 _Finally, she saw a door on her right and she headed towards it. A light was glowing from the other side, a shadow crossing beneath the frame. Somebody was in there. As quietly as she could, Hermione opened the door, terrified of what she might find._

 _The light in the room was almost blinding and she squinted her eyes against it. She was in a nursery, but it was quite empty, much like the bedroom she had left. The walls were a plain sky blue with a white crib in the center. Beside the crib was the scene that seemed to stop her heart. Voldemort stood in front of her, holding a small baby in his skeletal arms. He looked up at her through his red snake-like eyes._

 _"She is a lovely child. It is a shame she has to die," he said sinisterly._

 _"No!" Hermione yelled, but her feet were stuck to the ground where she stood. She couldn't move, only watch the scene play out in front of her._

 _Slowly, the evil man before her placed her baby down in the crib again and reached into his robes, pulling out his wand._

 _"No!" Hermione screamed again. "Please! Don't hurt her!"_

 _"I'm not going to hurt her," he sneered. "I'm going to kill her."_

 _Hermione sobbed and screamed and tried with all of her might to move from the place where she was trapped, but without avail. What about her wand? She searched herself, going through any place it might be, but could find nothing._

 _"Avada Kadavra!" Voldemort yelled, and Hermione gave a blood-curdling scream as the green light filled the room._

Hermione woke up to find herself back in the familiar bedroom at the cottage, panting, sweating and crying. Draco's strong arms came around her, holding her close to his body as he gently rocked her back and forth.

"It was just a nightmare," he whispered as Hermione sobbed against him. "It's alright, nobody is going to hurt you."

"He killed her! He killed her!" Hermione cried.

"Who did he kill Hermione?" Draco asked.

"Our daughter!" she sobbed.

"Hermione look at me," he ordered. Hesitantly, she did as he told her and stared up into Draco's worried eyes. "He didn't kill her. Do you understand? It was only a nightmare." He took her hand and put it against the growing bump of her belly. "She's still right there," he whispered.

Hermione began to cry harder, only this time, out of a great sense of relief. Draco was right. It was only a dream. None of it actually happened no matter how real it had seemed. Her baby wasn't due for another several months. He held her even tighter as she began to get over the shock of the dream. Slowly her heavy sobs turned to light gasps and the occasional hiccup as her cries died down to shudders.

"That's it," he said soothingly. "I'm not going to let anybody hurt you, or our daughter." Hermione nodded against his chest. She couldn't get the image of Voldemort holding the tiny baby out of her mind. It was all she could think about; all she could see in her mind's eye. She could tell she was still shaking and was grateful that Draco hadn't loosened his hold on her yet, fear still wracking every inch of her body.

* * *

Later that day, Hermione was still shaken up about the dream she had. Could something like that happen? Was it some kind of warning? Draco had held her for the rest of the night, constantly assuring her that he would never let anything like that happen, but that didn't quell all of her worries. Voldemort wasn't the only danger that frightened her. What if something else was wrong with the baby and they just didn't know about it? Without access to proper equipment, Hermione had not been able to have any of the regular prenatal exams. This was worrying in itself; just not knowing for sure if the baby growing within her was healthy or not. Hermione had looked through many of the books in the library, picking out any that had anything to do with pregnancy. She spent all the free time she had reading those books and trying to do everything they advised within the capability of supplies available to her. She had Minky bring her the right kinds of foods that contained the nutrition the baby needed, among other such things. Hermione knew that nightmares were a common occurrence during pregnancy, but that didn't make the one she had, seem any better.

Hermione gasped and pressed a hand to her growing belly. Every time she felt the baby kick or move, it sent a wave of relief soaring through her. At least her daughter was alive, even if she couldn't see her. The first time the baby had moved had been a strange feeling. She knew she should be expecting such things around this time in her pregnancy, but the sensation of something moving about inside of her was both weird and wonderful.

One night, as Hermione and Draco were just settling down to go to sleep, she had felt the kicking and grabbed his hand, gently placing it over her swollen stomach.

 _His eyes grew wide._

 _"What's that?" he had asked her._

 _"That's our daughter," she replied._

 _An awed smile slowly slid across Draco's features as he kept his hand rested on Hermione's belly. His eyes sparkled in amazement, but seemed also distant, like he could visually see the baby moving beneath his touch, his lower lip dropping slightly in complete wonder. Hermione smiled back at the shocked man in front of her._

 _"That's…" he trailed off, unable to finish even a simple statement. Draco's gaze shifted from Hermione's stomach to her eyes, locking onto them with a meaning so powerful, so clear. They spoke of a commitment; that they were going to be parents, together, and no matter what happened, he was going to protect them. Even through all the confusion, doubts, fear, danger, and whatever else they might face, Draco had decided that this baby was his number one priority._

It was now early November and the weather was getting colder. Though most people were getting much stronger, the wind and rain that had become almost constant over the past few days had taken a toll on the ability to keep attitudes positive. Statements of doubt could be heard throughout the cottage. There were only nine of them in this group, how were they supposed to defeat Voldemort with that few of them? They would be extremely outnumbered and overwhelmed no matter how strong they had become over the past few months.

As the days got shorter and darker, so did the outlook for the war. How was anything supposed to work out right for them when most people on their side were scattered across the country or killed? They still hadn't heard anything from Kingsley and they had no success in figuring out a way to find any others without alerting the Death Eaters to the presence of any survivors, or their own. It became increasingly difficult for anybody to fully understand how their small group could make an impact in this war by themselves.

Training that day was long and cold. Hermione was practicing a couple new spells she had learned over the week, dueling with Ginny. Ginny had seen a lot of improvement in her health over the past few months, as she had gained back most of the weight she had lost over her imprisonment and was just as quick with a wand as ever. It was this fact that kept Hermione from giving up hope. Her friend was doing well, so could she.

Suddenly, Hermione's wand wavered, and the short duel stopped.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny asked worriedly.

"Nothing," Hermione replied shaking her head. "just a bit light headed."

"No, something's wrong," Ginny insisted, coming closer to her friend. "You're out of breath. You need to rest."

Hermione noticed that she was indeed breathing much harder than she normally did after that kind of exercise. She had read something about having trouble breathing occasionally at this time in a pregnancy due to the baby pressing up against internal organs. This was normal, she assured herself.

"Come sit down," the red-headed witch told Hermione, taking her hand and leading her from the training field.

This was something Draco noticed and was immediately running over to them.

"What's wrong? What's going on?" he asked, sounding slightly panicked.

"It's just a symptom of the pregnancy," Hermione told him.

"She's having trouble breathing," Ginny informed. Hermione rolled her eyes. That was exactly what Draco needed to hear.

"I've got her," Draco said, taking over for Ginny. "Go tell the others to take a break."

"Sure," she nodded and headed back to the field.

Draco led Hermione back inside the cottage and sat her down on the sofa in the sitting room.

"I want you to stop training," he told her.

"Excuse me?" Hermione hissed. "You can't stop me from training."

"You can't keep doing this. You're going to get hurt. I knew I couldn't get you to back down when we first started, that you would want to train too, so I let you, but now," he swallowed. "You can't. You've learned quickly and are able to defend yourself if we are found and that was the goal. You can stop now."

"Draco, absolutely not! I can train just like anybody else!" she countered.

"Hermione, please listen to me. You aren't like anybody else! You are pregnant and getting more so every day." She could see the worry in his eyes as he spoke. He really thought that she, the baby, or both could be hurt. This annoyed her slightly but was also quite sweet.

"Draco, nothing is going to happen," she assured him.

"Something definitely could happen. This is Dark Magic we are working with here. It can cause real harm!" he insisted.

"I'm a good witch-"

"I know you are, but," Hermione could see the inner turmoil flooding through him as he raked his fingers through his hair. "While the others are getting stronger, you're getting weaker! You know it's true!"

She had been noticing that a small bit, but it didn't mean anything did it?

"I know you are strong Hermione, but you aren't supposed to be that strong. I know there is a possibility that you aren't getting everything you need here."

About this, Draco was right. She wasn't able to get all the right vitamin supplements, tests, check-ups, potions, and the baby could be taking from her own stores. Hermione didn't want Draco to be right. She wanted to continue training, continue being able to do something in this war other than being the weak pregnant girl. She knew that if the worst came she knew enough spells to protect herself, but that didn't mean she wanted to just sit around resting all day while the others continued to train. Hermione didn't know exactly what was going on inside her body right now, didn't know if everything was alright. Draco was right. Something could go wrong. What if she wasn't fast enough to block a spell while training and one of her friends hurt her? They wouldn't be able to forgive themselves! The more she thought about it, the more she didn't want any of them to go through something like that.

She looked back over at Draco who was watching her closely. "You're really worried aren't you?" she asked with a slight smile.

"So what if I am? That's my daughter! I told you I wasn't going to let anything happen to the two of you and this is me keeping my promise!" he told her.

It was nice to know that he cared so much. Hermione wasn't used to seeing him this worried about something. Even though she knew that everything that had happened so far was normal, a small part of her did want to do what he asked, just to lessen his burden. Hermione knew he was carrying a lot of weight on his shoulders. As much as she was worried about becoming a mother, he must be even more frightened to become a father. Sometimes she could see it in his eyes, the fear that he carried with him. He had told her about his father and how Draco had been treated as a boy. Hermione couldn't imagine only having that for an example. She knew that he didn't want to do anything that could possibly mess this up.

"Draco," she said quietly, taking his hand in hers. "It's alright to be afraid. It's alright to go through that fear together. If discontinuing training is something that you really think needs to happen and will help both of us, then I'll consider it."

"Really?" he asked, sounding a bit surprised. Hermione nodded sadly.

"But you have promise me something," she said.

"What?"

"Find me something else productive to do so I don't go completely insane."

"I can do that-"

"And stop hiding behind that mask of stone. We're going through this together remember. When it's just the two of us, you can let it slide. I know you're frightened. I am too. But we can help each other."

"I'm not frightened," he denied, closing up his features again.

"Stop it. Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself! We will get through this, and it will be a heck of a lot easier if we get through it together."

"Because that's what friends do," Draco added.

Hermione felt something fade inside of her at the simple words. Friends. They were friends. Nothing more. But that was okay, wasn't it? They could be friends and still be together in this.

"That's what friends do," she replied quietly.

"Alright," Draco agreed.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe what had just happened. Hermione had been having trouble breathing and he had been so worried he had let his entire façade slip. He didn't know how she had done it, but somehow, she had seen inside of him, to the very depths of his fears and worries, deeper than he had let anybody see practically ever before. For a while, he thought Hermione would never agree to stop training. She was so strong and could be extremely stubborn herself. Had he actually had a point? Was something else going on? Had she noticed that she was getting weaker as he had?

During that conversation, he had felt something that he knew he had to shake off. They were friends and he had to confirm that. If he loved her, he would ruin everything, so he had to be sure they were simply friends. And she had confirmed it. Draco wasn't expecting the feeling of loss to go through him at her words, but he knew it was for the best. He had to protect her, even if it was from himself.

After Hermione had woken up from that nightmare last night, Draco had worried about what was happening to her. It had been quite a while since he had seen her that frightened by something. The fear on her face had haunted him for the rest of the day. He knew that something had to give. Was it something the Dark Magic was doing to her? He knew it was possible. That was one of the reasons why he so adamantly wanted her to stop.

"So you got Hermione to agree to stop training," Harry clarified once it was announced what had been going on.

"Yes," Draco told him.

"Wow," Ron said, shocked.

"Wow is right! How did you manage that? You just gained some small amount of respect there," George approved.

"Is she alright?" Neville asked with concern.

"She's fine. Just normal pregnancy stuff," Draco assured them vaguely. They must have noticed what was going on with Hermione as well but didn't want to be the ones to tell her. Of course, they would leave that job to the teacher, specifically, him. He did feel bad about taking this from her but felt like he was doing the right thing. She could do other things, like research, she liked books, she was good at that, it would give her something productive to do. He did do the right thing, didn't he?

 **Author's Note:**

 **And another chapter done! I hope it's okay! Apparently, after I had my wisdom teeth out, the swelling has gone into my inner ears and made my mind go all wonky and dizzy. Weird. I feel like I have cotton balls stuck in my brain making it super hard to focus on anything. The next chapter is going to be a little complicated (great for an unfocused mind :P). I've been trying to work on it, but things aren't coming as easily as they usually do. I'll try to figure it out as soon as possible! Inspire me with your wonderful words of reviews! Be the light in my cotton ball filled head! Thanks for reading!**


	20. A Time To Come Together - Or Not

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the genius behind the magic**

Hermione did not necessarily approve of being taken out of training but understood the concern that laid within the action. She knew that every day, her body was changing, growing, a tiny person was being created inside of her. She also knew that Dark Magic was unpredictable and could be dangerous. Even though she might be a powerful witch, Hermione was not going to allow anything to happen to her child, and that meant appeasing Draco's and apparently the rest of her friends', worries and step aside from the heavy training.

As the weeks passed, Hermione focused most of her time in books, doing research on some particulars of the Dark Magic they would be both facing and using, as well as any possible way of finding other survivors without endangering them. This was proving to be quite challenging, but research was something Hermione knew best, and actually enjoyed it most of the time.

Christmas was coming upon them quickly and Hermione was thankful for the distraction. Training seemed to be getting less intense as preparations began. The boys had insisted on getting a fairly large tree from the nearby woods to decorate and lighten the place up a bit. They had looked pretty funny trying to get the green bushy plant into the cottage and the girls had sat giggling as they attempted to get the tree to stay upright. It seemed that no matter how hard they tried, it always ended up wanting to topple over to one side or the other.

Minky had gotten out several large boxes completely filled with decorations into which the girls dove while the boys continued setting up the tree. Lights swirled up the stairway, green leafy wreaths dotted with small, red decorations hung from every door, the tree radiant with sparkles and color, topped with a golden star. All in all, the cottage was a bright, glistening mess of decorations that glowed in the darkness, filling a light that had been missing over the past couple of months.

There was something about this time of year that seemed to still the darkness in its path even when it felt like it was winning. As the group sat in the kitchen on that Christmas evening, it was as if, for one night, all the feuds and past hatred disappeared, leaving behind a wonderful mixture of life, smiles, and laughter. Though hints of gloom were ever-present, it was overpowered by light.

Minky had made a large meal of so many choices of foods. It wasn't anything close to a Hogwarts feast, but it was special none the less. Though the group had all agreed that nobody would be giving anybody presents this year due to the difficulty surrounding that effort, the greatest gift of all seemed to be the miracle that was all of them safe, alive, and together.

Beneath the joy of the occasion, the magnificent, almost magical effect that Christmas can have on a person, Hermione could still see the suffering that those around the table felt and tried to hide. This time could not be easy for any of them. It was the first Christmas spent without loved ones, without knowing where family members were or if they were okay. They tried to be happy and not let their darkness diminish the light of this time of year, but everybody faced burdens.

She looked at Mr. Weasely sitting across from her. His eyes were so sad. He had lost so much in this war including his wife and many of his children. He knew that Fred and Bill had been killed but had no idea what had happened to Charlie or Percy. It must be so difficult not to know if they were alright. But even through the sorrow, Mr. Weasley was still forced to be strong. He was still a father figure to this group. Hermione admired his strength and wished that she could do something to help him, though she understood that nothing could fill the hole that his family had left.

George had lost a lot of his light, humorous personality lately, though he tried his best to hide how much this affected him. He had lost his twin, his other half, and this was his first Christmas alone. He smiled at the others and made casual conversation when spoken to, but otherwise stayed rather quiet, picking at his food instead of really eating it.

Through all the loss and sorrow, one thing had kept spirits from crashing; Harry. They had all thought that they had seen him killed, but he had come back to them, bringing with him a hope that this wasn't the end, that there was more that could be done, that the deaths that this war had caused could someday be avenged. Harry being alive brought the smile to the table, brought the ability to laugh, brought the ability to have a touch of joy.

Hermione was happy with how it seemed the boys were getting along. Though there were still hateful looks and words muttered under breaths of frustration, they were at least making an effort to behave. She was beginning to feel bad about how she had left things with Ron. She had not told him that she had forgiven him for what he said and she knew that he was trying to make up for it every day, going out of his way to be sweet and to give off the indication that he was willing to work with Draco. But she had not fully forgiven him. She still wondered how he could ever make up for saying something like that to anybody. After everything he knew, he had said the one thing that would hurt her the most. Hermione knew that he felt terrible about hurting her, but she was still trying to figure out a way to get over it. She wanted her and Ron to go back to being real friends. She knew he couldn't have meant what he said, how he let his emotions grab hold of him and make him lose control. She realized how hard this was on him as well as on her. She couldn't help but wonder if this was like a loose string on a piece of fabric. Threads come loose all the time, but it is hard to tell if it can simply be cut off, or if it will slowly begin to unravel the material. Hermione wanted to believe that this wouldn't have a permanent effect on her friendship, but couldn't help feeling as if those words he had said were the string to slowly unravel the relationship.

Draco sat beside her, a lopsided smile that sort of resembled a happy smirk on his face. This was the most comfortable looking Hermione had seen him in months.

Suddenly, Draco's face changed. The look of comfort and joy faded in an instant and was replaced by a stone hard expression. He paled.

"Somebody is trying to get past the wards," he announced.

A cold lump of fear formed in Hermione's chest. They had been found? Were they going to be attacked? It was Christmas!

"Are you sure?" Mr. Weasley asked gravely.

"Yes. I put them up, I can feel when somebody is trying to tear them down," Draco explained. "There are Death Eaters outside. I don't know how many. The wards can't last forever." Something flashed behind his eyes and Mr. Weasely gave a slight nod, looking back down at his half eaten plate. What was going on?

A loud zapping sound was heard from outside sending a knife of ice down Hermione's spine. They didn't have much time.

"Minky!" Draco called. "Gather tents, clothes, food, anything they might need," he told her.

He had said 'they'. "Draco, what are you talking about?" Hermione demanded, eyes wide.

"You need to get out of here," he explained. "All of you. Nobody knows Potter is alive and it needs to stay that way. They also don't know anybody else is here except for the three of us. They expect me to be here and they will be expecting me to send you away first and come after you. They need to see me here so I can lead them somewhere you aren't," he finished, focused solely on Hermione.

"No Draco, you can't do this!" she argued.

"I can and I have to. Think of the baby!" he countered. Hermione saw him exchange glances with Ron and Harry and a quick nod of response and in an instant, Hermione's world became chaos once again.

Before Hermione could even respond, her friends had grabbed her and disapparated. Now she stood, shaking, in the middle of a forest.

"What? Where are we?! No! How could you do this! Get off of me!" she screamed, trying to get away from the boys. It felt like a dam had been kicked out from her chest. Draco was going to get himself killed and her friends had just whisked her away! She couldn't believe what was happening. How did they desert him so easily? Did they really not care at all?

"Hermione," Harry said in a soft voice.

With a loud pop, Mr. Weasley and the others appeared around them. All except Draco.

"We have to go back!" she yelled. "We have to help him!"

"He knows what he's doing, Hermione. He has a plan," the man told her in a calm voice, though it was clear he was trying hard to cover up panic. He attempted to put a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged him off.

"If he had a plan, why wouldn't he tell me about it?" she argued.

"Because he knew you would react like this. He wanted you to be safe. His plan was the best we had for everyone," Harry tried to explain.

"And what is this plan then? To get himself killed?" she demanded.

"He doesn't plan on being caught. He's is going to lead them away and then find us," Ron said vaguely.

"So did you all know about this?" Hermione questioned the group.

"I didn't, it is quite a shock for me as well," Luna assured her. "But Draco does seem quite capable."

"He's the one who's been teaching us, remember?" Ginny pointed out.

"Why don't some of you come help me set up camp," Mr. Weasley suggested, leaving Harry and Ron alone with Hermione.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked quietly.

"He made us swear not to. Said it was the only way to make sure you stayed safe," Harry told her.

"The git's braver than I thought," Ron muttered, causing Harry to elbow him in the ribs. "Ouch. Yeah, we wanted you to be safe too."

Hermione couldn't think. All she could see was an image of Draco surrounded by Death Eaters.

* * *

Everything was going as he had planned. Draco knew that Hermione and the baby were safe and that was all that mattered. He knew she would not be happy about this, that she would probably be quite angry with him for not telling her, but right then, he didn't care. He knew what he had to do. Draco knew that he would be able to take the Death Eaters. It wasn't like he had to kill all of them, actually, it was imperative to his plan that he didn't. He needed to just barely escape, make them think that they have a lead and follow him. He needed to send them away from Hermione.

Draco felt the wards collapse and took a deep breath to steady himself. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, body tense, wand ready, waiting for the moment when several Death Eaters would storm through the cottage. With a loud bang, the front door was blasted open and Draco could hear heavy footsteps moving towards him. Slowly, he edged towards the back door to give himself better access to his escape route.

"Little Malfoy," a voice sneered, a tall figure in a dark cloak stepped towards him. "Always knew you were too weak, that you'd end up even more of a disgrace than your father." Rabastan Lestrange. "Oh, how you're going to wish you could be killed. Where is that pretty little lady you have with you?"

What was the man talking about? He wasn't ordered to be killed? "She's already gone," he replied evenly, hiding every feeling of confusion behind his solid mask. Other Death Eaters stepped into the room around them, wands all aimed at Draco. Why weren't they cursing him?

"That just makes this even more fun now doesn't it?" Rabastan laughed, the others making sick sounds of agreement. "Poor mommy tried to protect you but ended up sentencing you to a fate much more entertaining."

Draco's blood stilled. His mother? "What does any of this have to do with my mother?" he asked calmly.

"What does it have to do with your mother? Ever thought about why we didn't find you sooner boy? The insolent witch prevented it, and she got what she deserved, didn't she boys. Maybe even a little less. I would have tortured her a bit first."

It took every ounce of Draco's self-control not to kill them all right there. So his mother had been killed; she had died trying to protect him. He couldn't let this get to him. If he let himself get emotional, his plan might be compromised.

"What makes you think I care about what happened to her?" Draco asked coldly. Every word burned through him like acid, but he wasn't going to let those sick bastards gain any satisfaction from seeing him react.

"Because you're soft boy. You couldn't even torture a mudblood," Rabastan laughed. The humor in his voice made Draco feel nauseous though his face showed nothing. Every few seconds, his plan moved farther along, though much slower than he had anticipated. Very subtly, he inched towards the back door. While the other Death Eaters chuckled and taunted him, Draco stayed calm and focused, never dropping his guard or forgetting what he had to do to escape.

As soon as he was close enough, he raised his wand and fired three spells in sequence, leaving three unconscious bodies on the floor and many others confused. He made his break, running out the back doors of the cottage and sprinting towards the forest.

One part down, the rest to go. At least he was out of the enclosed cottage, now he could hide, could run, could regain control of the situation. A spell sped past him hitting a tree just beside his head as he ducked into the woods, angry voices yelling after him. The Dark Lord wouldn't be happy with his servants if they lost him because they took too much time to taunt him rather than taking him down. Draco almost felt bad for them. Almost. He shot a stunning spell over his shoulder, then a shield, blocking a rather nasty hex flown his way.

"Hermione! Go!" he called out, hoping to make his pursuers believe that she was still in the area and that he was leading them to her.

Draco continued running. Even when his lungs ached and his muscles burned, he could not stop.

An intense pain gripped his left shoulder and he felt a strange heat radiating down his arm. Draco cried out and grabbed his arm, seeing fresh blood oozing from the wound. He had been hit. "Damn it!" he yelled slamming himself against a tree. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to refocus, tried to block out the burning pain. Getting hit was not part of the plan. Draco could hear the voices getting louder, the Death Eaters coming closer. He needed to move. He needed to get out of there. He thought hard and fast. He decided that this had the potential to work in his favor. Grunting, he heaved himself free from the bark, now wet with his blood and continued to make his way through the forest. He leaned against branches and stumps, effectively leaving a trail for his pursuers to follow. He just had to put enough distance between him and the Death Eaters for them to believe that he thought himself able to safely apparate away to be with Hermione.

He clenched his jaw and ran as fast as he possibly could, keeping one hand on his wand and the other cradling his aching arm. With every spell he fired from his injured shoulder sent a new wave of pain shooting, but it didn't matter. Not right now anyway.

Finally, he had his distance and disapparated. Draco found himself by standing by a lake. The blue water was calm and peaceful, a vast contrast to the chase that he had just come from. A canopy of branches fell around him, shaking slightly as he leaned against the tree. He knew he couldn't stay there long. He needed to keep moving, keep laying a trail, a trail leading away from Hermione and the others. He knew he didn't have time to waste admiring the beauty of the place. He was losing too much blood.

Soon, he had set a decent trail and now rested at his final destination before returning to the group. Draco's vision grew blurry as tears stained the world around him. He wiped them away with his hand, leaving a smear of blood across his face. Shaking, he examined his injury. It was bad, he could tell, and caused by a dark spell by the look of the black edges. Though even as he watched, the blackness faded, leaving only a heavily bleeding, gaping wound; the magic was wearing off. His mother. The weight of everything that was happening had just hit him in the face like a ton of bricks. He slid to the ground, leaning up against a tree in yet another set of woods.

His mother had sacrificed herself to save him. The mother who he had left there. He had abandoned her and she had taken on Voldemort himself so that he couldn't be killed. The sorrow he was feeling couldn't be contained and desperate sobs wracked through his body. How could he have just left her there?

Draco turned around and pounded the bark of the tree with his fist, then again, and again, until his knuckles were bloody and broken. Maybe Rabastan was right in a way. Maybe he was weak, maybe he was soft. He couldn't even protect his own mother. How was he supposed to protect Hermione? How was he supposed to protect his daughter? He hadn't been loved much in his life, but his mother had, and she had been killed because of it. He tried to convince himself that he and Hermione would never be more than friends, but he couldn't take that chance. Even if Hermione never loved him, would his daughter? It was a bad idea for him to leave with them in the first place. It was a bad idea for him to even try to be a father. He couldn't do it; he wouldn't do it. He would make sure they were safe, he would protect them, but he couldn't let them love him. Love was a dangerous thing; that he had learned. He didn't deserve love. He had abandoned his mother and she had sacrificed her life for him.

He thought of Hermione and her constant selflessness. If she ever loved him, would she die for him? Draco knew he couldn't let her do that. He couldn't have that slightest possibility. Maybe he just wouldn't go back to them. He would continue hiding on his own, maybe watch from afar so if they needed him he could be there, but he could not get too close.

Draco felt himself getting light headed. He was losing too much blood. He knew he didn't have enough energy to heal himself, the wound was too severe. Pushing himself up against the tree, Draco tried to steady his trembling limbs to stand. He realized that he really didn't have a choice at the moment if he wanted to survive; he had to get back to the group, he needed help. He groaned as his body teetered on the edge of consciousness. Would he be able to apparate? Greatly doubting his success but seeing the necessity of attempt, he concentrated as much as he could and turned on the spot.

* * *

In a different forest, Hermione couldn't stop the worst-case-scenarios from winding their way into her head. Somewhere, out there, Draco was fending off Death Eaters. Alone. Had he already been killed? Had he been captured? Was he injured? Was he being tortured at this exact moment? She couldn't believe he would do something like this. Why couldn't he just leave with them? Why did he have to go and be the hero? Was he trying to prove something? The others had explained that he was planning to lure the Death Eaters away from this area so they would have good reason to start up a search elsewhere, but would they have found them if he hadn't? Would they have had a clue where to look?

She clutched at the necklace hanging over her heart. The only reason she had taken it off was to shower. She was still so confused about what was going on between them. One minute, he was so sweet and making her a beautiful necklace for her birthday, holding her while she cried, terrified after a nightmare, insisted that she stop training because he was worried she would get hurt, and then he told her they were just friends. Didn't he realize what he was doing to her? Now he goes off and basically tries to get himself killed. What happened to the cold and unfeeling, arrogant, mean, Slytherin from school? Draco Malfoy was going off and acting all Gryffindor. She was so mad that he left her like this, but she had to admit that it was hard to be angry when she was so afraid that he wouldn't come back.

It had been hours. He should have been back a long time ago! Something must have gone wrong. Of course, something would happen! Draco was willingly facing off alone against who knew how many Death Eaters! The group had set up the tent in a small, flat but well-concealed area of the forest. It was quite tiny on the outside but was magically enlarged so that it fit multiple beds, a sitting area with a sofa and two chairs and a kitchenette. Hermione paced about the tent incessantly while her friends tried to calm her down.

She looked over at Luna, who was curled up with Neville in the corner. How Hermione wished that she could have Luna's ability to be calm and positive. She had so much faith that everything was going to turn out right eventually. Nobody needed to tell her to sit down or stop walking aimlessly across the room. She was just Luna; calm and peaceful, smiling blankly in the face of danger, Luna.

A pop was heard from outside. Somebody had apparated near them. Everyone went completely silent. Even though they had good wards up, they didn't want to alert any unwanted visitors to their presence. Was it Draco? Hermione immediately started for the entrance to the tent. Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her back gently.

"No," he whispered. "We don't know for sure who it is." Hermione wanted to argue but knew it was useless. Nobody was going to let her out of that tent.

"I'm going to go see who it is," Mr. Weasley informed, slipping outside.

A moment later, he returned, carrying an unconscious body. Blood. Lots of blood covering pale skin and platinum blonde hair. It was Draco.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Yay! Finally, the next chapter! Sorry, I left it on a cliffy. I'll try to update again as soon as possible. Please review and tell me what you think! It's almost time to move back to school so I'm going to need lots of reviews to motivate me to update quicker (less than a week and I haven't started packing yet). Make my day with reviews so you can inspire me to pack fast and get on with the writing! Thanks for reading!**


	21. Love is a Funny Thing

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the master**

Why is it that you only realize what you've had once it is being taken away?

Blood. Deep crimson on pale skin, platinum blonde hair matted with red, body still. Hermione stood in the middle of the tent, frozen in place with one hand secured over her mouth, too shocked to move or even breath. He couldn't die, he wasn't allowed to. He was the father of her unborn child, her husband. She watched in stunned silence as Mr. Weasley carried Draco's unconscious form to one of the three beds, laying him down gently and pulling out his wand. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion; people running around, asking if they can help, trying to talk to her, assure her that everything was going to be okay. It always frustrated Hermione when people said it was going to be okay. They didn't know that; there was no way to know. It may not be okay. Hermione couldn't focus on them, or their false words of security. All she could do was stand and watch the scene in front of her unfold, like one of her nightmares where she was physically stuck to the floor.

In that moment of fearful waiting, Hermione realized something extremely important, and extremely terrifying. Ginny had right about something. Draco Malfoy was laying mere feet from her, severely injured and close to death. The arrogant, narcissistic, mean, degrading, prejudiced, bully, Draco Malfoy had stayed behind to fight for them, to save them. The rival, the enemy, the boy who called her mudblood, was laying on the bed covered in blood because he risked his life for her. The potions know-it-all, Professor Snape's favorite student, that boy who everybody hated, the man who was not allowed to die. Hermione mentally willed him to live. She was in love with Draco Malfoy.

It didn't seem logical, or rational, or even possible, but somehow over the course of the past several months, something had changed. She had thought that being forced to marry him was one of the worst things to ever happen to her, but it let her see something that she would never have otherwise seen. Yes, he was arrogant and stubborn, but he was also sweet and thoughtful, and slightly over protective. Hermione realized that being a Death Eater wasn't something he had wanted, or even had a choice in. She didn't know about in school, but she could see now that Draco didn't enjoy hurting people, he didn't condone the actions of the man he followed. Draco Malfoy had a heart, a soul, and a light hidden behind the darkness he portrayed. Beyond the veil of his cold exterior lay a good man, a man who was not allowed to die today. He was going to be a father, a husband, a friend, a lover; because he wasn't going to die.

"Hermione, why don't you come sit down," Ron suggested softly, gently taking the hand that dangled limply at her side and standing directly in her line of vision. This seemed to snap her out of the haze that she was in.

"No, I have to help," she insisted in a shaky voice, finally forcing herself to move.

She knelt down beside Draco and took his hand in hers. His knuckles were bloody, the skin was torn, and was that a splinter? Hermione shook her head. She couldn't think of that now, she had to focus on the much larger issues at hand.

"How is he? What can I do?" she asked Mr. Weasley who was working on healing his shoulder on the opposite side of the bed.

"Minky's gone to search for any potions that may help," he said, not really answering her question. Was he really that bad? She guessed that nobody in the room was a specialized healer so without potions the amount of magic they were able to perform to heal him was limited.

"Come on, Draco," she whispered, leaning closer to him.

She gasped as she saw the wound. His robes had been pulled back to expose the injury-torn flesh. When had this happened? How long did he have to run and fight with his shoulder like this? It looked extremely painful. He had taken hours to get to them, had he been in pain that whole time? For a moment, she was slightly glad that he was unconscious. At least he had some rest now right?

"Minky found some!" the little elf squeaked appearing beside Mr. Weasley holding three bottles.

"Good. Very good," he muttered, taking the vials from the shaking creature. "Blood replenishing potion." He looked conflicted for a moment, then nodded to himself. "He has to wake up, just for a few seconds so he can drink it."

"You're going to wake him up?! But he'll be in so much pain!" Hermione argued.

"He'll die without it," he told her seriously. He checked the other bottles Minky had brought out. "Sleeping draught. He can wake up for a few seconds and then we can put him back to sleep."

"Master _must_ not die!" Minky cried.

Hermione nodded, her desperate agreement with the elf silently voiced.

" _Rennervate_ ," he spoke, and Draco began to stir.

He groaned and his breathing began to labour. Hermione squeezed his hand to try to comfort him.

"Have him drink it," Mr. Weasley told Hermione, handing her the containers.

With trembling hands, she opened the blood replenishing potion and held it to Draco's lips, edging it between them and pouring the liquid into his mouth.

"Blood replenishing," she whispered, explaining what he was taking, knowing that he would refuse if she didn't. He swallowed and immediately, colour began to fill his face, at least closer to his regular pale shade. "You're not allowed to die. You hear me? Do. Not. Die." she said, taking this moment to order him to live. Hermione opened the other bottle and held it out to him. "This will put you back to sleep." He accepted it eagerly, and soon his breathing slowed and his body relaxed. She still kept a tight grip on Draco's hand as Mr. Weasley went back to work on closing the wound.

After what seemed like hours Draco was healed, cleaned, and peacefully sleeping.

"He's going to be asleep for a few more hours. Why don't you try to get some shut eye too," Mr. Weasley advised.

"Is he going to be alright?" she asked.

"Should be. He'll have a nasty scar and some pain for a while, but he'll live," he told her, giving her shoulder a pat. Hermione gave a great sigh of relief.

"Thank-you," she said. He just nodded tiredly.

Looking around the tent, Hermione found that nearly everyone else had fallen asleep, but she just continued to sit beside the unconscious Draco hand in hand. She was exhausted herself, but she didn't want to sleep. She knew Mr. Weasley said that Draco was going to be alright, but she couldn't help feeling that if she fell asleep, something terrible would happen.

Hermione was tired of waiting; she was tired of being afraid. It seemed that was all her life was anymore. She couldn't even remember a time when the universe wasn't out to get her, or somebody she loved. It was definitely before the three of them had gone off to hunt Horcruxes, probably even before the first time she got on the train headed to Hogwarts. Ever since she had found out she was a witch it was like she just didn't belong. Granted, had she ever really belonged anywhere. Now that she thought about it, had the universe ever not been out to get her? She was the daughter of the evilest man alive, was it really such a stretch to think that the universe had been trying to get rid of her ever since it found out about her existence?

She had always been different, always been a freak, always been a magnet for life's problems. Part of that could be because of who she was friends with, but had she really had a choice in that? It was like it was destined to happen, her becoming friends with the enemy of her biological father, even if she hadn't known who he was. Things had never worked out the way she would have liked them too. Chaos was just a part of her life, whether it was the emotional chaos brought by Ron, who she had been in love with at the time, constantly snogging some other girl in front of her, Draco and his group of bullies' incessant, degrading harassment, or actual chaos like hiding from Voldemort and his Death Eaters while searching for ways to destroy him.

For the past couple of months, she had finally had some sort of peace. She had access to food and shelter, found out Harry was alive, was together with a group of her friends, had a sense of safety. She had girl talks about boys, love, crushes, and babies, she had access to a library filled with books, she had comfort in the arms of her husband.

Now, it seemed the universe had enough of giving her peace and decided to replace it with a little more chaos. She had known it wouldn't last, that the longer the comfortable lifestyle continued the harder it would all crash down around her. She should have been preparing herself for when the inevitable happened. She could see what was going on, what had been going on all her life. Somehow, she had known that something wasn't right and now she knew. It was some sort of bad karma. What had she ever done to deserve this, this bad karma? She had been brought into this world by evil. She was blood-related to the Dark Lord himself. Hermione had tried really hard to convince herself that it didn't matter, that her real parents were muggle dentists, that they were safe, in another country, that one day she would go and give them back their memories and they would be a happy family again. She had tried to convince herself that she didn't have a problem with the fact that he was her biological father, that personality traits aren't related to genetics, that the only father that had any influence on who she was as a person was the loving man that tucked her into bed every night as a child, but she couldn't change the fact that she _wasn't_ okay with this. She _wasn't_ okay with the fact that she was created by, a part of, Lord Voldemort. She was overwhelmed and afraid. Hermione was a nineteen-year-old witch, twenty-five weeks pregnant, and in a forced marriage. It seemed too much to ask that she be allowed to fall in love with her husband and have him live. It would follow along nicely with the idea of bad karma that just when she realizes she loves the man she is married to, he be taken away.

She knew that whole idea about karma was complete nonsense, but she just couldn't get it out of her head. It did feel as though that were the case even though she knew it was totally illogical. What was happening to her that she would even consider something like this? She just wanted a little more peace and it seemed that something wasn't allowing her to have it. At the moment, her life was a mess and it was getting difficult to believe that it was going to get any better.

Silently, Hermione begged that Karma to let him live. He shouldn't die because everything about her life was messed up. He didn't choose this, he didn't choose to be in her life, so he shouldn't have to die so that her life could stay a mess.

Hermione was absolutely exhausted. She tried so hard to stay awake, but could slowly feel herself fading. Her last thought before she fell asleep was a prayer that Draco still be alive when she wakes up.

* * *

When Hermione woke, she breathed a sigh of relief as she felt Draco's chest rising and falling beneath her head. She yawned and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Someone was in the kitchen rustling around, others were sitting around talking. Draco hadn't woken up yet; he still slept peacefully, hand intertwined with hers. Hermione didn't know exactly where they were or what they were going to do from here on, but as long as he opened his eyes soon, it didn't matter because they would do it together.

The rain that had stopped for Christmas had started again and was making soothing pitter pattering noises on the walls of the tent. Hermione liked the sound the rain made as it hit the material. It was calming.

She sat up and looked at Draco's face. Usually, it was full of tension, worry, and stress, but for once, he seemed calm and serene. It was probably because of the sleeping draught he had taken, but she wished she could see him like that more often. Just by the normal strain in the muscles in his face as he slept told her of the heavy burdens he carried. She liked to think that this once he was able to rest without that heavy weight. His lips typically in a hard line, were relaxed and slightly ajar, his eyelids lay softly closed instead of tightly shut.

Hermione brushed some hair from his face with the tips of her fingers, lightly brushing the side of his face. She wanted to memorize the way he looked like this because she knew when he woke up, all the worry and the problems that life has a tendency to bring, would flood back in full force.

She saw the change as soon as he started to wake up. His lips became tight and brows drew together, the look of tension returned. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Hermione couldn't help the small smile that came with the relief that he was, in fact, finally awake. That smile faded very quickly when his hand slid away from hers.

"Wha…" he was clearly disoriented.

"Draco," she whispered. "You stayed behind and fought for us. You lead them away from here but were injured pretty badly. You're okay now, though," she assured him. "Mr. Weasley healed you as best he could." He tried to sit up and groaned in pain. "Just wait a minute. You need to stay resting!" she told him.

For a second their eyes met, but what she saw behind his were not what she had expected. They were sad, defeated, and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Hermione," he said, voice cracking. "You need to go… away… with the others."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused.

"You need to stay…away from me."

"No. I'm not leaving, I'm staying right here. You already did that whole sending me away to save me thing and I'm not letting you do it again," she insisted.

"Do as I say. Go away from me."

"Draco, what are you talking about? I'm not going anywhere. What happened out there?"

"Nothing. Why won't you listen to me?" he asked, sounding exasperated.

"Because…" she trailed off. She couldn't tell him she loved him like this, when he was sending her away. Why was he doing this? "I don't want to. Are we in danger here? Do we all have to leave this area? I don't understand."

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He seemed conflicted about something.

"No, no danger. I just don't _want_ you near me. I'll _never_ want you," he told her coldly, eyes hard and unyielding.

He didn't want her to be there? Had he realized something when he was injured? Had he realized that he didn't want to be stuck with her for the rest of his life? All thoughts of him possibly loving her back went out the window. The pain of those words struck her in the face like a punch and Hermione felt tears well in her eyes, but she forced them down. She couldn't let him know how much he had hurt her with that statement. He was just being honest.

Slowly, she slid away from him. Damn that karma. He had lived, but she still wasn't allowed to have his love. She wanted to run somewhere. Somewhere isolated where nobody could hear or see her cry. The tent seemed to get smaller in those moments as she turned away from the man on the bed. She didn't know what to do. It felt as if the walls were getting tighter and tighter, not allowing her to breathe. Her lungs ached. She couldn't breathe. She needed to get out of there.

Without thinking, she broke free, running out of the tent before anyone could stop her and out into the forest around them. The rain was pounding down around her, almost immediately drenching her from head to toe, but she didn't care. The rain felt good on her face. She knew she couldn't get too far away from the tent or go beyond the wards that had been put up, but she hid behind a tree and sunk to the ground, letting hot tears run down her cheeks. She should have known this could happen. It was Draco Malfoy and no matter how much he had changed; he would always be Draco Malfoy.

Hermione tried to take deep breaths, to calm herself and make sure she didn't hyperventilate but she couldn't control the horrible feeling deep inside. She loved him. She loved him, and he dismissed her. Were they even friends anymore? How could so much have changed in a matter of hours? She hugged her legs to her chest and wept into her knees. She had to get over this. So he didn't love her back. That didn't matter, right? She still had her friends, she was alive. But he had done something to her. He had somehow implanted himself in her heart and now he was reaching in and trying to rip himself out.

Somebody slumped down beside her. Hermione lifted her head and saw Ginny.

"What happened?" Ginny asked softly.

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione cried, leaning into her friend's open arms.

No more words were shared. None were needed. Ginny just held Hermione as she cried over a love that would never be.

 **Author's Note:**

 **So, kind of a sad ending to that chapter. I move back to school this weekend so updates are going to get a bit slower, sorry. Thank you to all you wonderful people who reviewed for the last chapter, you are awesome! I'll try to update once more before I go back to school. Keep reviewing to remind me to keep writing! Thanks for reading!**


	22. Wounded

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the master of Harry Potter, I just roll with it**

Saying that he didn't want Hermione was one of the hardest things Draco had had to do but it was the only way he knew to make her leave him. He knew he had to hurt her in order to stop her from coming back. Seeing the pain in her eyes at those words made him regret it even more and gave him the desperate desire to take them back and tell her the truth but he kept up the mask of ice that he held over her. He couldn't let her see the true feelings he had for her. He needed to crush any relationship he had with her if he ever wanted her to be safe. Draco couldn't have the slightest chance that she loved him and that meant putting an end to anything before it began. It would be better this way; he could still be there and protect her if she needed him, but keep his distance emotionally. They may be married but in the end, she would be better off without all of his baggage. His past was dark and twisted, his present didn't seem much improved, and his future looked grim. After all of this was over, she could move on with her life, be happy. He would just hold her down in the dark. His mother had loved him and she had died because of it. He couldn't let that happen to Hermione.

When she ran outside into the rain, it took everything in him not to ignore the pain he was feeling from his injury, ignore everything he was trying to prevent and run after her. But he didn't. He stayed laying on the bed and trying to seem emotionless.

Soon, people began questioning him about why she had run off, though he refused to answer. Ginny offered to go check on Hermione, and Draco was grateful that she was such a good friend to her. There was a growing frustration in the group as Draco just continued to lay there in stubborn silence. Hermione could tell them how horrible he had been to her. May as well have them all hating him too, it would help Hermione to have people on her side.

It was almost an hour before the two girls came back to the tent. Draco had started to get worried that something had happened to them out there. If it had and something happened to Hermione because he had made her run outside, he would never forgive himself. It was a great relief when they came back, though they were shivering, and completely soaked. It was obvious Hermione had been crying and it hurt him to know that he had caused her that pain, but he couldn't let it show.

Draco's eyes snapped to his left forearm. Even though it was covered, he knew what stained his skin there. Every once in a while, it would burn intensely and he could feel the dark mark shifting on his arm as if it were a live snake as the Dark Lord called upon his followers. It reminded him of who he was, of what he was. It disgusted him. The burning grew and grew until he was unable to keep his face hard anymore and felt himself wincing. It would continue to grow until the Dark Lord was satisfied that his followers had shown themselves in his presence. Slowly, it died away, and the mark became still again.

Any time this had happened when he was together with Hermione, he had hidden it; left the room, gone to the bathroom, but now, with everybody staying in the same tent together, it was going to be more difficult. It made Draco hate himself to know that he had this type of connection with the Dark Lord. At this time, there was probably a meeting at his house, with Death Eaters sitting around his table, Voldemort at the head, discussing ways to find them. There were also probably punishments being given out and possibly even people being killed for letting him escape. He knew the sick kinds of things that happened at those meetings; he had been there, he had experienced them, and he could never get away. They happened in his own home.

Now, he was finally away from that terrible place, but still, the Dark Lord found a way to make his life more miserable. He still felt it every time the Death Eaters were called and the only way to stop the burning from worsening was to apparate to his side. He knew that the Dark Lord held the channel open longer just to prolong the pain of it for him. Every time it happened, it made him wonder what was going on there, who was being tortured, who was being killed, what raid they might be going on. He couldn't stop the images of the things he had been forced to do at those meetings from flooding through his mind.

These things would never go away, not until the Dark Lord was dead, and that seemed like a long shot. He couldn't have Hermione knowing about this, being affected by the dark connection. He had always made sure to keep his arm covered, never letting her see the mark on his left forearm. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help feeling as if by seeing it, she would lose some of her innocence. It was just so dark and horrible, and she was so light and caring. Those things weren't supposed to mix. So he had to keep her away.

The days passed slowly, lethargically. Draco kept to himself, refusing to talk to anyone about what had happened when he stayed behind to fight. They didn't have to know his reasons; they didn't have to know that he had found out that his mother had been killed, that he had learned of his mother's sacrifice for his life, that it was tearing him up inside. They didn't have to know the truth that all he wanted was for Hermione to be by his side, to see her smile at him like she had when he had first woken up. That was what had really done it, made him decide to push her away. The way her eyes lit up when she knew he was going to live, that small smile that had spread across her face when he had opened his eyes. He knew the only way to protect her was to make her think that he didn't want her. Yes, his shoulder was painful, but seeing that smile fade away, saying those horrible words that he knew hurt her, that was agony.

Draco heard the boys talk about him, mostly Weasley and Potter. They wanted to kick him out, send him off on his own. It was a good idea, not to have him around. Potter and Weasley were especially angry, sending him constant glares between the insults and heated words to which he never responded. They were right for being mad. He had done the one thing he had vowed never to purposefully do; he hurt Hermione. He saw the damage he had caused in her eyes anytime she looked at him. She was sad, hurt, broken. He didn't mean to hurt her that badly. He thought that she would be angry, frustrated, a little hurt, but he didn't think it would be this bad. He was missing something. Anybody else he had ever pushed away had always just brushed it off and moved on with their lives. Hermione was different. She didn't talk very much either. She stared at her hands a lot and Draco swore he could see tears in her eyes sometimes when she looked at him.

He knew she still had nightmares and it killed him that he couldn't comfort her. She woke everyone with her cries. He wanted to be able to hold her and tell her that it wasn't real, that it was just a dream. He wanted to tell her that he was still here, that he would still protect her, that he still cared about her, but he stayed silent.

Gradually, the pain from his shoulder lessened and he started spending most of his time outside. He figured it would be easier on Hermione if she didn't have to see him all the time. He wanted to make this easier for her. He didn't know why this was so difficult, but he didn't want her to be hurting so much. As much as she said she was fine, about the only thing he really heard her say when her friends asked, she wasn't fine and Draco didn't know what to do about it. He tried his best to stay away from her; taking meals outside instead of eating with the group, coming in to go to bed after everybody else had already fallen asleep. Yes, it was cold outside and he had to take blankets out with him and was constantly shivering but it was the least he could do if it made any of this more manageable for Hermione.

After a week of simply existing, Ginny paid him a visit.

One second he was peacefully sitting against a tree outside the tent, the next his face was stinging from a slap to the face.

"What the hell is wrong you?!" she demanded.

Draco just stared at her as she fumed in front of him.

"I thought you were just going through some things and would snap out of it, but it's been a week! Do you not see what you're doing to her?" Ginny yelled.

"She needs to get over it," Draco said quietly.

"She needs to get over it?" she repeated. "No, you need to get over whatever happened to you at the cottage and stop punishing Hermione. You expect me to believe that you meant what you said to her?"

"Yes."

"With the way you look at her when you aren't hiding, I'd say the truth is the opposite of that-"

"Just stop," he interrupted. "It's better this way."

" _This_ is better?" Ginny said incredulously. "The girl is _in love_ with you. Every day you are breaking her heart. And I know you love her too so this whole thing is just pointless."

Draco was stunned. Hermione was already in love with him? It couldn't be. Ginny was wrong. She had to be. It would explain why this was so hard for her – no, he couldn't believe it. She couldn't love him; how could she? He was evil, a Death Eater, a follower of the most vile man alive. He was dark and twisted inside. He had been forced onto her as her husband. She couldn't be in love with him, it just wasn't right.

He buried his head in his hands. What if she did love him and he really was breaking her heart? He didn't know what to do. He had tried so hard to prevent this. He wanted to protect her but he hadn't been able to protect his mother and it terrified him that he might not be able to protect Hermione either.

Did he love Hermione? He wouldn't know if he did, he'd never really loved another person before. Sure he'd had people he called friends, he'd had plenty of girlfriends, but he had never let himself get so emotionally involved that he had loved them. He guessed he loved his mother in a way but that was different. Was it love if his heart ached every time he saw her cry? Was it love if all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms? Was it love if his stomach flipped if she simply smiled at him, or even said his name? He didn't really know if that was the definition of love, though, they were feelings that he had never before experienced, so it was possible.

Draco told himself it didn't matter if he loved Hermione. The most important thing if Hermione loved him was how to get her to stop. In his only experience, love had ended in death and that thought petrified him. An image flashed through his mind of Hermione's still, pale, body, bloody and broken, and it only made his determination stronger. As much as the idea of Hermione loving him made him feel warm and happy inside, he needed to make her stop. Even though the thought made a wave of pain flood through his gut, it was right.

He looked up and locked eyes with Ginny.

"You have to get her to stop," he told her.

"What are you on about now? Did you hear what I just said?" she asked.

"Yes, and it's going to get her killed!" he insisted.

"Oh, my gosh," Ginny said, voice quieting. "You're trying to protect her."

Draco didn't say anything; he didn't have to.

"You are such an _idiot_!" she exclaimed throwing her hands up in frustration.

"What?" Draco was confused.

"What makes you think that she'll get killed if she happens to love you?"

He didn't answer.

"So you are going to keep on hurting her, keep on breaking her heart, because you have this stupid idea in your head that somehow, just loving you will get her killed?" Now she was pacing back and forth in front of him.

Yes, that was pretty much spot on. Putting it that way, it did seem kind of illogical. But then his mother flashed through his mind. Was it that illogical? If his mother hadn't loved him, she might still be alive, she might still be perfectly fine. Ginny didn't know anything about him. He hadn't had many people love him, but he was pretty sure that he couldn't let anybody else take that risk, especially not Hermione.

"I can't let her continue like that," he said.

"You think you have a choice in who she loves?" she chuckled ruefully. "You can't control who you love Malfoy. You can't just stop her from loving you. Wouldn't it be better if you could both love each other and be happy rather than love each other and be miserable and hurting?"

That question hung in the air. He hadn't thought that there was even a possibility that she might already be in love with him. What if Ginny was right and he couldn't make her stop loving him? What then? This thought made things so much more difficult. Draco was conflicted. What was he supposed to do?

Ginny sighed loudly. "If I told Hermione to come talk to you, would you fix this? Because I can't just sit around and watch you hurt her like this because you are such an idiot that you can't see what is right in front of you. You _have_ to fix this. Hermione isn't Hermione right now. She thought you were _dying_ Malfoy. Then you live and all of a sudden you go and tell her that you'll never want her. What kind of a person _does_ that? You need to fix this because you broke her and only you can put her back together." She finished her rant and stared at him.

He couldn't believe this was happening. Had he really hurt Hermione that badly? He guessed he had seen before how damaging words can be coming from someone you love. He had been there in the aftermath of Weasley's destructive comment. Would he even be able to fix it? He nodded his head and shifted his eyes to the many trees in the distance. He was just trying to protect her. His head spun as everything came crashing around him. He had tried to protect her by purposefully hurting her. Draco wouldn't forgive him if he were her but this was Hermione and she had a tendency to be surprising.

Ginny spun on her heel and marched back to the tent, leaving Draco alone trying to get a grip on his emotions as they fought hard to be let out.

 **Author's Note:**

 **Got one last chapter up before I go back to school tomorrow. I don't know when I will be able to update again after classes start but I am working on the next chapter now so hopefully it won't be too long! Thanks to everybody who has read, reviewed, followed or favorited. You are all super awesome and keep me wanting to write. I would love to get over that hundred mark for reviews so leave me some thoughts. I would love to hear some thoughts about what could happen to them out there in the middle of nowhere. I know how I want the story to end but the I'm running out of ideas for what can happen between now and my ending so I would love your input!**


	23. When It's Just Too Much

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the genius behind Harry Potter, I just play along**

Hermione sat, curled in an armchair, wrapped in a cozy blanket, and stared blankly at the entrance to the tent. This had become her chair over the past week as she never really left it. It wasn't like there were enough places for everyone to sleep; the tent wasn't meant for nine people, so she just stayed in her chair and attempted existence. Why was this so hard? Why did it hurt so much? It had been a week since Draco had told her he would never want her and his words were being constantly repeated in her head. It wasn't like her to do this, to let her heartbreak get to her so much.

Draco had been in bed for a couple of days, recovering from his injury. She heard the others talking about him, though he refused to respond to anyone. They tried to speak to her about what had happened, but she didn't feel like talking either. Every time Hermione even looked at Draco, there was a stabbing pain in her heart, though, all the time it felt like her stomach had been ripped out leaving a large gaping hole in its place. She didn't feel hungry and even the thought of eating food made her feel nauseous, but she knew she had to put food in her body for the baby.

Even when Ron had been snogging Lavender Brown in front of her in the sixth year, she had never felt like this. She had had a good cry and then got on with her life. This was different. It was as if Draco had become one of her lungs or something and she couldn't breathe properly without him there.

Hermione had gotten used to Draco's presence and it felt strange that he was never by her side anymore. She had to admit that even sleeping without him was a challenge, especially when she had nightmares almost every night now. Her friends tried their best to comfort her when she woke up in tears from a terrifying dream but the only person she really wanted to be with was Draco. She desperately wanted to wake up in his comforting arms, held tight against his chest. Her dreams were always the same but never seemed any less real and the outcome never changed; her baby was always killed at the hands of Voldemort. Each time she had it, the more positive she was that it was reality and she worried that it could become true eventually.

Once Draco had recovered enough to get out of bed, he started leaving for hours at a time. Hermione couldn't help but worry about him out there. It was cold and even though the rain had stopped, the temperature had dropped and it had even snowed once or twice. He must have been freezing out there. Hermione wondered why he would go out there all alone but realized that he might be trying to get away from her. This thought made everything even worse. He would rather sit out in the cold than stay in the tent with her? He didn't even come inside at meal times.

Hermione had to admit that it was a bit easier on her not to have to see him all the time. Instead of the sharp, stabbing pain that she felt each time she looked at him, now it was a constant ache that she couldn't get away from. It seemed as though she was moving in slow motion while the world sped on around her. It didn't feel like she was really even still alive but just existing.

Today was a day like any other that week; Hermione sat in silence, wishing everyone would just leave her alone, and Draco went outside so he didn't have to be around her. Though, something was different. Ginny left after Draco and soon, she heard the distant sounds of an argument, though it seemed to be very one-sided as she could only hear Ginny's voice. She couldn't exactly make out what she was saying but she knew the witch was just trying to help her. Hermione knew that Ginny had had enough of all of her gloomy behavior and had tried to get her to snap out of it but nothing worked. Something was wrong with Hermione, she knew. This wasn't how she normally handled things. She was usually so good with tough situations, she generally knew what to do, how to get over it quickly. She normally dealt with things by sticking her head in a book, which was kind of difficult for multiple reasons, the foremost being the limited number of books which had been brought from the cottage. It wasn't like the tent was stocked with books and they had been forced to drop everything and go. Not only that but the boys hadn't given her the time to grab anything for herself or even give any input into what they would be bringing. This left her with a lot of nothing to do to distract her from her thoughts.

So she sat in her chair and stared at the tent entrance, wishing that Draco would walk back in and apologize. But this was Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy had a hard time admitting when he was wrong. Hermione had thought that he had changed but now she wasn't so sure anymore. The Draco Malfoy she thought she knew would never have let her down like that; would he?

Before long, Ginny came back through the entrance Hermione was staring at and walked over to where she sat, crouching down in front of her.

"I know you probably don't want to talk to him right now, but I think you really need to," Ginny told her softly. "I can't stand seeing you like this and I know Harry and Ron can't stand it either. They don't think I'm right about this, about you and Malfoy. I think something happened when he stayed behind. Just, go out and talk to him," she pleaded.

Hermione was quiet, thinking. She both wanted to go see him and was completely terrified. It hurt so much to even look at him. What if Ginny was wrong and he just didn't want her? What if she was right and something else was going on that made him say those things to her?

"Say something," Ginny urged.

"I don't know," she almost whispered.

"Come on Hermione. Anything is better than this."

Hermione knew she was right about that. Right now, it was like she wasn't even really living, she was a blob of barely existing flesh and bone. At least she would know whether or not her friend was correct in thinking that he hadn't truly meant what he said.

"Okay," Hermione hesitantly agreed.

Ginny smiled. "He's outside. The idiot refuses to come in. It's cold so take the blanket out with you," she advised.

Hermione took a deep breath and stood up from the chair, wrapping the blanket around herself. Ginny gave her a nod and a gentle push towards the tent entrance to get her going. This was a bad idea. With every step Hermione took, her nerves told her to turn around, that this was not a good idea. She was going to see Draco and she didn't know if she could handle being rejected again. Yes, what he had said was pretty nasty but somehow, it hadn't even put a dent in how much she loved him.

She stepped out into the forest. The ground was hard and frozen beneath her feet and she could see her breath form an icy fog in front of her face. Again she wondered why he would rather be outside when it was this cold than inside where he might see her. This was a very bad idea. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. She'd already come this far; she couldn't let herself change her mind now.

She saw him sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, a little way away. He was also wrapped in a blanket and shivering. She put one foot in front of the other and moved towards him. It was only when she was a couple of feet away that she stopped in her tracks and stared at him. He wasn't shivering, well, maybe a little, but that wasn't the main reason why he was shaking. Draco was crying. Hermione saw how hard he was trying to pull himself together with his deep breathing and small sniffles but wet tears still left shiny tracks down his cheeks. Her breath caught. What was going on? She stood there, confused.

Draco looked up at her, eyes watery, chin quivering slightly. "I'm sorry," he breathed.

Did he just apologize? Hermione was stunned. She had never seen Draco like this before and all she wanted to do was pull him into a hug. Without thinking, she sat down beside him, far enough away so they didn't touch, just in case he didn't want her to.

"Why?" she asked in a whisper. "Why did you do this?"

He was silent for a minute, staring straight ahead until she thought he might not answer. Then he turned his head and looked at her with eyes showing such emotion, such pain, that it took her breath away.

"My mother," he finally said in a low voice. "She's dead."

"Draco, I'm so sorry," Hermione told him.

"She didn't have to die," he continued. This puzzled her. What was he talking about? Was he blaming himself for leaving his mother behind? He explained. "I should have died. The curse I was hit with should have killed me, but it faded until only the wound was left."

"I don't understand," she said.

He took a shaky breath. "She did something so the Dark Lord couldn't find us, couldn't find me. She could have lived, but she protected me. She loved me and she died because she did."

Hermione closed her eyes. The significance of this finally settled in and she realized what this meant. It wasn't that he didn't want her, he wanted to prevent her from falling in love with him because he thought she would be killed if she did. She looked back at Draco to see more tears trailing down his face.

"You told me you didn't want me so I wouldn't want you," she clarified.

"I didn't… I didn't know what else to do."

Hermione couldn't help the warm feeling that started to flood throughout her body. He didn't mean what he said; he had only said it to try to protect her. She closed the small gap between them.

"It's alright to cry you know. It's alright to be sad, it's alright to be angry. She was your mother, of course she loved you, of course she protected you even though she knew she would die for it. That is what a good mother is supposed to do. What's not alright is you deciding who I can and can not care about," she told him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into the hug she had been lost without for the last week.

She felt it the moment he let go. His shoulders shook as he sobbed against her. This time, it was her turn to be strong for him, her turn to hold him as he cried over his lost mother. Hermione held him close and stroked his hair. She felt her own tears slide down her cheeks as she thought of the woman who had given her life to save the man in her arms.

She had only met her a couple of times, some more pleasant than others, but Hermione knew she had tried to do what was best for her son. She remembered when Narcissa Malfoy had helped her get ready for her wedding. The woman had been blunt, to the point, she'd had that arrogance and confidence that the rest of the Malfoys had, but it had suited her. Hermione recalled how she had taken so much time to tame her hair and put on her makeup, all to make sure she was the perfect bride to marry her son. Narcissa may not have said much and that time she spent with her slightly awkward, but Hermione remembered seeing the excitement in her eyes that her son was getting married. She could tell how much Narcissa cared about Draco even if she had trouble showing it. She truly wanted her son to be happy. The way Hermione would always see the memory of Narcissa Malfoy would be the moment she first put on the wedding dress and Narcissa smiled thinking about Draco's reaction. It was a beautiful smile, one filled with a love she couldn't express, a hope she wouldn't dare let show. Hermione saw how hard the wedding itself was on Narcissa, that smile fading away because she hadn't been allowed to show any emotion in front of the Death Eaters. It struck Hermione that Draco might not know about the emotions his mother had to hide that day.

Hermione held Draco against her until his shaking stopped and he had cried the last tear his eyes could form. She decided now was as good a time as any to tell him about her revelation.

"Draco," she said in a hushed voice filled with emotion. "Your mother," she swallowed. "She wanted you to be happy." Draco sniffled and lifted his head from her shoulder so he could look at her. "During the wedding, she wasn't allowed to show any emotion, but before… she helped me get ready and she was free to express herself. She didn't talk to me much, but what she did say she said about you. The one thing that made her face light up with the most beautiful smile was when she thought about how happy you could be, how amazed you would be at all her hard work," Hermione laughed a bit at the last part. "It took her a while," she added.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"She chose to die for a reason, a good one if you ask me. She didn't just die so that you could live Draco; she died also so that you could be happy one day. Make her death mean something. Stay alive, and let yourself be happy, whether that's with me or without me, make it something that you want," she finished. Hermione hated that she gave him the choice to push her away, but somehow she knew that this time, whatever he chose would be true, that she would have to live with what he decided. She could fight for him all she wanted, but if he truly didn't want her, then she would go. She loved him enough to want him to be happy. She and Narcissa had that in common. Her whole body tensed in anticipation.

Suddenly, his lips were crashing into hers with a fevered passion, as if he had been holding himself back for a long time and was finally breaking free. The last time the had kissed, well, she had kissed him, he had pulled away and refused to look at her. This time, he had initiated and she kissed him back eagerly. Her eyes closed as she felt his hand slide up her neck to the back of her head where he pulled her even closer until she completely melted into him. Her hand came up to cup his cheek, feeling the wet tears that still lingered there. Slowly he pulled away, breaking the kiss, leaving Hermione panting and wanting more. He stayed close, noses barely brushing, she could feel his breath against her face.

"That's my answer," Draco whispered.

A shy smile spread across Hermione's face.

"I'm glad," she said. An icy breeze hit them sending the two into a fit of shivers. "C-can we g-go inside n-now?" she asked.

"I think that's a good idea," he replied. He took a deep breath, calming himself and wiping away any excess tears from his face, and took Hermione's hand. He helped her up like a gentleman and together, they walked towards the lion's den they knew was waiting for them when they returned to the tent.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I am really sorry this story has been on hold for a quite while now. I'm a little stuck because I have another couple months to cover before the ending and nothing to fill them with. Please leave review or PM me to let me know if I should leave it where it is or give it some sort of rushed ending covering the last couple months. I won't do anything to that story until you let me know so please tell me what you think!**

 **I want to thank everyone who has read the story and everyone who has reviewed. I would love to finish it, give it an ending, but I don't want to disappoint people by rushing through the last few chapters. That's why I'm leaving that decision up to my readers!**

 **Update: I am planning on finishing this, but because of the sudden inspiration to start another story a few weeks ago, unfortunately, this one will have to wait a bit longer. While you are waiting you can check out my new story 'Good To You' and I will get around to finishing this at some point.**

 **Update #2 - I'm back!**


	24. The Lion's Den

**_Early February_**

Life is never easy. No matter what you do or say, no matter where you go, life is hard and unfair. Being in love with a man who the majority of the other people you live with dislike, some hating him with an uncontrolled passion, that sucks.

The group had decided to pack up and move every couple of weeks in an attempt to keep the Death Eaters in the dark as to their location. It kept them alive, together, and gave them time to plan what the hell they were going to do with the world. There were only nine of them after all and a very pregnant Hermione so if they had any hope at all, they had to be pretty darn strategic.

The last month had been one of complete chaos; from silence to constant fighting, the frequent packing up and moving to new locations, Hermione was just about done with it all. She was endlessly frustrated, angry, and disappointed by the actions of the people she loved. This was not how things were supposed to be. She wasn't supposed to have to choose between the man she loved and her friends. Hermione knew they were just looking out for her, just trying to protect her, but they were protecting her from the wrong things. Draco wasn't hurting her, they were.

That day, when Hermione had realized why Draco had pushed her away, had ended in madness. The boys were none too happy about Hermione's quick forgiveness, Ginny was trying to calm them down and convince them it wasn't what it seemed, and Luna, well Luna was Luna and it was hard sometimes to recognize on which side she stood. What was almost worse was the silence that followed that night during dinner when Hermione had convinced Draco to eat with the group. There was a lot of glaring going around as Ginny attempted to fend off the horrible attitudes around the table. It was as if everyone had decided to give them the silent treatment.

The worst part was when Harry had decided to pull her aside and talk to her alone.

 _"Hermione. You can't be this naïve. I know you thought he was different, that he'd changed or something, but he hasn't. He's Draco Malfoy. You can't expect someone like that to change so drastically," Harry argued._

 _Harry had taken her outside so he could talk to her alone as it was extremely difficult to get any sort of privacy in the tent with so many people. They stood together, both wrapped in thick blankets. Hermione stared into the distance. She knew Harry was only trying to protect her, but he had no idea what was going on. It was so much easier to stare at the frost covered trees behind him rather than seeing the unnecessary worry etched on his face. Hermione wondered why Ron wasn't out there with them. It was kind of sad that he wasn't. These interventions normally included both of her friends. Hermione knew she shouldn't be surprised by Ron's absence from the situation. After they had seemingly just got back on speaking terms he was probably afraid to rock the boat again in case he capsized their whole relationship by doing so. It was nice to know that Harry cared, but she really wished he would stop caring so much. She thought that he had tried to be friendly with Draco, but maybe she was wrong._

 _"I thought you believed me that he had changed," she said softly._

 _"Hermione, look at me," he ordered quietly. Tentatively, she met his gaze. She could see how much he cared, but he could never see what was right in front of him. "I tried, I really did, and I was starting to see a difference, but what he did…" he paused. "He hurt you, and had us so worried that you wouldn't come back to us. I don't think you realize how lost you really were. It just proved what everyone was expecting from him."_

 _The words sent disappointment flooding through her. If Harry knew what had really happened, maybe it would change his mind, but she knew that possibility was doubtful. Hermione wasn't about to tell something so personal without Draco's permission. This was something that Draco had to share himself, and she didn't think that was going to happen any time soon. Hermione desperately wanted to tell Harry, make him understand Draco's reasons. It was on the tip of her tongue, fighting to come out of her mouth, but her will stood firm. She wasn't about to betray his trust like that._

 _"I know he apologized, but what does that really mean? He must have told you something else, something to pull on your heart. I know how big of a heart you have Hermione and it's one of the things I love about you, but how do you know if he was even telling the truth? He has obviously gotten to know you these past months. He knows how to get to you. None of us trust him-"_

 _"Ginny does," she interrupted._

 _Harry sighed. "Yes, well, maybe Ginny just wants to believe in a happy ending right now."_

 _Hermione couldn't understand what Harry's purpose was for telling her this. Did he think that because some people didn't trust Draco that she would lose all faith in him? Didn't he know that he was hurting her with every word?_

 _"We've decided we need to move locations," he told her._

 _"Why?" she asked._

 _"Something happened when Malfoy stayed behind. It wasn't brave what he did, it was stupid. Something happened, and it is scaring everyone that they don't know what it was. We haven't been found yet but we can't be sure-"_

 _"Wait. You think he turned on us?" Hermione asked incredulously._

 _"Hermione, we just don't know. He's been all over the place with his actions and spending a lot of time outside doing who knows what, it's getting harder to trust him with every thing he does."_

 _"What are you saying?" A lump of dread began to build in her stomach and she began wishing that he wasn't going to say what she thought he was going to._

 _"We don't think he should come with us," Harry told her._

 _Hermione's eyes went wide. He said it. "You can't be serious! Where do you think he'll go? Both sides are hunting him! He'll be killed, or worse!" she yelled._

 _"Hermione. He's a Death Eater. Nobody feels safe now. Not while he's around."_

 _"Former Death Eater," she argued. "Something happened when he stayed behind, yes. But he didn't rejoin You-Know-Who!"_

 _"How do you know? How can you be so sure? You're pregnant Hermione! I thought you were supposed to want to protect your baby not endanger it even further by keeping someone around even if there is a possibility of him working for the enemy!"_

 _"He did what he did for a reason Harry! And I might not be able to tell you that reason exactly, but I will say he did it to protect me!" she shouted._

 _"Protect you?! He basically killed you! I've never seen you like that before and it was terrifying Hermione!" Harry yelled back._

 _"What about you and Ginny?" she asked._

 _"What are you on about now?"_

 _"Do you love her?"_

 _Harry paused, considering the question and how he should answer. "You know I do," he said, lowering his voice._

 _"And why did you break up with her?" Hermione continued._

 _"This is completely different!"_

 _"Not really. You left to protect her. How do you know what she went through because of that when you left so quickly after? Before you say anything, stop and think about it for a minute."_

 _There was a moment of silence and Harry's eyes began to soften and fill with guilt. Hermione hated that she had turned this around on him and made him feel even more of the guilt she knew he carried with him every day. Harry and Draco were more alike than either of them wanted to admit._

 _"You're not going to leave Draco behind," Hermione added. "Because if you leave him behind, you leave me behind with him."_

The conversation hadn't lasted long after that. Hermione had known that there was no way Harry would let anything happen to her, so they had to find another way to stay safe without abandoning Draco to a terrible fate. But Hermione wasn't too pleased with that decision either. It wasn't as if her or Ginny had any say in what happened.

 _"You took his wand?!" Hermione yelled after finding out how the boys had planned to keep the group safe._

 _"Hermione, it's alright," Draco told her, sounding defeated._

 _"No, it's not alright!" she countered._

 _"It's our best option. We aren't sure of anything at the moment, but I agree that leaving him to die is not the right choice. Until we know, we need to be able to keep an eye on him," Mr. Weasley explained._

 _Hermione understood that Draco was a private person but she really wished that he would tell them the truth. They would understand his thinking and all this would be unnecessary. What if they were found? What if they were attacked and Draco didn't have a wand? He would be killed!_

 _"Why can't you just trust me?" she asked._

 _"I think you are taking this way too far," Ginny scolded the group._

 _"No, they're right. If Draco here won't tell us what happened that night, we can't afford to trust him. Not right now anyway," Mr. Weasley said._

 _Draco took Hermione's hand and gave it a small squeeze, again, letting her know that he was okay with this. She couldn't believe this had happened. It had been going so well, they were starting to get along with Draco. Now, they were back to square one._

 _"Maybe he just had some trouble with some Wrackspurts. They can drive one quite mad if you can't see them," Luna suggested. Every once in a while the girl would add a little colour to the argument by coming up with something absolutely ridiculous to say. Hermione had to note that it did have the tendency to lighten the mood of the group a bit._

Throughout the next few weeks things continued to be tense and frustrating, making Hermione feel more stressed and overwhelmed. If only she could convince Draco to put his ego aside and just tell the others what really happened to make him act so strangely. Draco was still quiet and distant even with Hermione and she was getting tired of it. She hated the way things were and just wanted it all to be over. Nothing was right, nothing was the way it was supposed to be.

It made Hermione worry over what would happen when her baby finally came. It was only about a month away. If they were still on the run like this, would she be having the child in the tent? Would they let Draco be there, let him hold her hand through it, let him hold his daughter? She had to believe that things would change. But she couldn't prevent her mind from falling back into worry.

To keep her thoughts on more useful things, she worked from memory on the spell she had been researching during the time at the cabin when she hadn't been able to train with the group. She had been so close, but now, working simply off of what she could remember was making the process quite time-consuming.

If she managed to complete it, this spell would give their daughter a fighting chance when she was born and if they were ever found. It was a concealment charm which could only be lifted by one with good intentions. If Voldemort attempted, nothing would happen because he would be intending to harm her.

 _Crash!_

Hermione's mind was torn from her work by the loud sound seeming to come from all around. Freezing wind blew the door to the tent open, sending icy snow billowing into the room.

 _Crash!_

A flash of light brightened the tent as the lightning seemed to hit right beside it.

 _It_ _'s just a storm._ Hermione tried to tell herself. But something didn't feel right.

There was a heavy pounding on the roof of the tent. Was that hail?

"We have to go. Now!" Mr. Weasley calls, rushing to pack things up.

"What do you mean? It's just a storm, isn't it?" Hermione asked.

"It isn't your regular storm Hermione; although, they are quite beautiful as well," Luna commented, calmly putting a teacup back in the cupboard. As if a _teacup_ really mattered right now. "It's a magical one. Magnificent really."

"What does that _mean_?!" Hermione was growing exasperated.

Draco came from behind her, stuffing a large pile of necessities into a bag. "We've been found."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my wonderful readers! Merry Christmas (if that's something you celebrate)! I wanted to give you amazing people a little Christmas present!**

 **Wow. I have been so shocked by the response to this story. I have kept getting requests to finish it even a year and a half later! I'm really sorry it has taken this long. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, it has meant so much to me.**

 **It really astounds me how many people actually like the story lol. I reread it so that I could start writing it again, and realized that it really isn't a good story according to me. Maybe that's just me criticizing my own work. Thank you so much for sticking with it and waiting so long for this update!**

 **I have a bit of the next chapter written, but I'm finding it difficult. My heart just isn't in it anymore. But I will try my absolute best for you guys. I apologize if it isn't as good as previous chapters or doesn't make sense in parts. At least I have some ideas for chapters ;)**

 **Please keep leaving me reviews! Even a year and a half later, they make me smile and encourage me to trek on in writing.**


	25. When Lightening Strikes

"We've been found."

Draco saw Hermione's fear as he said the words. They had known they wouldn't be able to hide forever. Now, they needed to move quickly. It wouldn't be long now before the wards would be torn down and Death Eaters would be swarming.

As another lightning strike lit the tent, Draco reached for his wand before remembering he didn't have one. He was beginning to panic. They had been found, and he didn't have a wand! It wasn't fear because he couldn't protect himself, though that was still very present, but that he couldn't protect Hermione.

"I need my wand," he announced as he rushed to pack the last bag.

The others looked at each other, uncertain.

Minky started to panic even more than Draco himself.

"Master Draco needs his wand!" the elf shrieked. "Master Draco needs his wand! Master Draco needs his wand!"

"We don't have time for this! Give him his wand! You're going to get him killed!" Hermione pleaded.

"But we still don't know what happened-" Ron started, but Hermione cut him off.

"That was so long ago. Can't you simply trust me? This once?"

Draco hadn't been ready to tell the others what happened that night and thought it was only effecting him. It was more than that now. He needed a wand.

He cleared his throat nervously. Draco hated sharing intimate details about his life, especially with people who didn't care what happened to him. He hated that he was having to justify himself like this. It was pathetic. And that he had to use has mother's death to get himself out of this hole he dug himself into, sickened him. But this wasn't just about him anymore. Draco didn't trust these people with their skills against Death Eaters; not when it was Hermione and his daughter's life. They had been getting better, but still wouldn't measure up to himself.

"If tell you, will you give it to me?" he asked. There was silence. Hermione was right; they didn't have time for this! They needed to get out now! Didn't anyone else realize that they couldn't just fight their way out anymore? Hermione couldn't do that. "That night, I found out my mother was dead. She sacrificed herself for me, the son who abandoned her, because she loved me," I explain quickly. "And I was stupid. All I could see was the one person who had ever loved me, dead because of it. I know Hermione, and I could see her doing something like that for someone she loved. I couldn't let that happen."

Silence fell through the tent; all except for the storm swirling around them.

Would they even believe him?

" _Accio, Draco's wand._ "

Draco's eyes went wide as Mr. Weasley handed him the wand.

"We'll talk later," the man told him.

Draco nodded his thanks.

Mr. Weasley looked to the others. "Go now. Take Hermione. I'll grab the tent," he ordered.

"No. We should stick together," Hermione insisted. "Nobody gets left behind."

"Hermione," Draco urged. "You need to go and someone needs to go with you. We also need the tent."

"The wards have held haven't they? And we don't even know what is happening for sure. I understand that you are trying to protect me, but we need to stay together," Hermione argued.

"Fine. Everyone out, wands drawn," Mr. Weasley said, giving in.

Why did Hermione always have to look out for everyone else? Even when she was waddling around, holding her big pregnant belly, she was still more worried about everyone else being safe. It was so frustrating and down right terrified him. Nevertheless, Draco took a deep breath and stayed by her side.

Hermione clung to him as they made their way outside into the freezing hail, Mr. Weasley quickly snapping the tent down to traveling size with a wave of his wand.

Draco scanned the darkness, every muscle tense, fingers tightly gripping his wand in case someone were to fire from the shadows.

The group gathered together, each person shaking both from the cold and fear.

"Quickly now," Mr. Weasley whispered, pulling everyone closer.

Just as they disapparated, something happened. Why did they have to take so bloody long? Why couldn't they have just left as soon as they recognized the storm as magical?

As his stomach began the normal flip that went along with disapparation, there was a flash and a scream. But they were off and nobody could stop them. And Draco had no idea who the shriek had come from. They were turning and twisting and his thoughts wouldn't come together.

In another moment, they were in a valley and the storm was gone. But the chaos was still very present. Before he could even think, Draco had his wand out and was casting a shield over Hermione. There were spells flying seemingly from every direction at the single Death Eater who had apparently grabbed hold of someone as we fled the previous location.

He ran to the nearest, thin tree cover to hide behind a trunk, every once in a while casting spells at his pursuers.

Draco kept Hermione tucked safely behind him. If anyone wanted to hurt her, they would have to go through him first.

The Death Eater fell to the ground, unconscious or dead, Draco wasn't sure. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins, his body shaking, mind racing.

"Are you alright?" he asked Hermione quietly.

She nodded her head quickly, eyes wide.

"Why. . . why would they do that? Why would they tell us they were coming?" Neville asked. There was a confused silence.

Draco sighed in frustration and defeat. He remembered something. They had used that same tactic on a task once. He wasn't there at the time, but he sure heard those people bragging about how well it worked. Brilliant really. And they had fallen for it, though, there really was no good option.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I remember some of the Death Eaters talking about something that worked _hilariously_ well according to them," he explained. "When they only knew the general area of their target, they would create a sort of alert, hence magical storm, and lure them out. It shows the pursuers their wards and forces their target to move. I mean, it wouldn't be long until they were found anyway, but it just makes it easier."

"And why didn't you tell us before?! You knew we had been found! You knew what it meant!" Ron accused.

"I knew it was them, I didn't remember why exactly," Draco defended. "I wasn't there when they used it. It wasn't the first thing on my mind at that moment! Excuse me if my wife's safety was more important than details of overheard treacheries!" he spat. "Now, let's find somewhere else before this bloke wakes up or someone else shows up."

* * *

The Manor

"My Lord." The man bowed before the Dark Lord, eyes never daring to look up from the ground.

Voldemort had been patient, forgiving, after the last time they let their targets escape. He knew they would work harder and faster to find them again, if only to avoid the full wrath of their master. He knew they were close. He had been assured that tonight would be their recapture. But here the men stood, empty handed before their Lord.

"What was it this time?" he sneered.

"They're wards . . . they held . . . they held far longer than we had anticipated."

"Meaning you have disappointed me once more," the Dark Lord replied.

"We saw them, my Lord. There are more. . ."

"What do you mean more?!" he demanded.

"It wasn't just the three. There were many."

"How many?" Voldemort implored.

"Not sure . . . exactly. A few more?"

The Dark Lord had had enough. Did he really have to do everything himself?

In an instant he was searching through the insolent man's memories. _He saw them in the woods. It was foggy and getting dark. A storm surrounded the area, magical in nature, revealing the wards around one particular space. Yes, the wards were evidently strong, but Voldemort observed their attempts and they eventually gave way. Nine. In that brief moment from when the wards fell to when the group disapparated, there were nine. Plus, a house elf? Why would they keep one of those filth around? Just a testament to their inferiority._

 _Harry Potter._

The Dark Lord pulled out of the man's mind.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

He fell dead to the floor. The man knew, but did not say.

A great anger filled every inch of Voldemort's body until his magic crackled around him. The boy who never dies! He killed him! He saw his spell reach its target! He saw Potter's body fall to the ground! It was impossible!

Each of the seven men in the room fell victim to his unrestrained rage until blood splattered every surface and the satisfying screams became a quiet crimson dripping.

He would have to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

The tent 

"Draco," Hermione whispered against his chest.

It had been a stressful day full of everything from running for their lives to petty arguments. Although, things seemed to be getting better now that Draco had told the group what had really happened that night. Mr. Weasley sat him down and asked Draco to explain in more detail what had made him act the way he had.

 _Draco looked up at everyone; all eyes on him. Hermione sat beside him, giving his hand a squeeze and sending him a slight smile of reassurance._

 _"They came for us, but it's never just a physical fight with them," he explained. "It's how much damage they can cause, emotionally too. I let them get to me. The taunted me, told me I was soft, a coward, that I abandoned my parents, let my mother die for me without a care. They said things about her, horrible things of what she deserved for protecting someone like me. I just . . . I didn't want Hermione to do that, to face anymore of this. I thought I was hurting her more by sticking around."_

 _"You just found out?" Harry asked, voice soft._

 _Draco nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap._

 _"And let's not forget the fact that he did save Hermione's life tonight," Ginny added, implying that she had been right all along. "It seems as though this whole time he has been trying to protect her, whether it worked, or not."_

 _Ron didn't say anything and it was difficult to tell if anything changed for him, but things seemed to get a little better after that._

Now, it was night and the others were asleep.

"I'm awake," he whispered back.

"How am I supposed to do this?" she asked.

The baby didn't seem to be liking all the excitement and kept kicking her, keeping her awake and her mind alert. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to be.

"What do you mean?"

She swallowed. " _This_ ," Hermione said, gesturing at her giant belly. "I don't know how to do this."

"Sure you do," Draco assured her softly. "You're Hermione."

"You always say that," she accused. "It doesn't mean much."

"Of course it means something. You were always able to do absolutely everything. And I despised you for it," he admitted. "With everything that's going on, I don't think many other people but you, could handle it."

"I'm not good at _everything_. Never have been," she argued.

Draco raised a brow. "Then why was I lectured nearly every time I went home because you were beating me in everything?"

Hermione sighed and put a hand on her stomach. "This isn't school. It's real life. And its completely terrifying."

"I know," he said, hugging her tighter. "I'm scared too."

"How am I supposed to be a mother? How can I be what she needs when we're living on the run, in a tent, who knows where in Britain, with no idea if we are even going to survive past tomorrow?"

"Don't underestimate yourself," Draco told her. "I mean, you are more powerful than you know. You're the Dark Lord's daughter, and I know you think that is the worst thing to happen to you, but it just means that you have the potential to be one of the strongest witches in the world. And with your heart, that could be a very _good_ thing for world right now. A very good thing for our _daughter_. You can do this."

He kissed her forehead softly as she closed her eyes and nuzzled into his chest. He believed in her. Knowing everything he did about who she was, he believed in her. And for a single moment, Hermione felt peace.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Happy New Year! Wow, 2018! And you guys are still reading my story! I got the most views in one day last week than I have ever had before, it was incredible.**

 **It's funny, because every time I come back to writing this story, I get sudden inspiration for another one! But this time, I am going to keep writing this one for you guys while I start on the other (Which already has nine chapters written since Thursday lol). I know you have been waiting a long time for this story, so I won't put it on hold any longer, even though I have another one going. I think I am going to post the first chapter of the new one tomorrow, so check it out!**

 **I think I have another three chapters or so of this one to write, so the end is near! I'm going to try to post weekly like my other stories have been so stay tuned!  
**

 **Thank-you to those few of you who reviewed, it meant so much to me. When I see someone reviewed it puts the biggest smile on my face and gives me more motivation to write this story, which I am really struggling for right now. But I do want to finish it for you, so leave me some comments!**

 **Thank-you for reading and for sticking with me over time, and I hope you have a wonderful start to the new year!**


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